


Believer [1]

by livvyheronstairs



Category: Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy - Cassandra Clare, The Last Hours Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:41:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 96,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28147761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livvyheronstairs/pseuds/livvyheronstairs
Summary: "I was broken from a young age"- Imagine Dragons.Matthew looked at the girl incredulously. He turned to Cordelia shaking his head. "Don't listen to her. She's lying. Our girl's actually an artist.""Matthew I hardly think we can call my chicken scratches 'art'.".[Book 1 of the Dandelion series][Chain of Gold]Matthew Fairchild x OC
Kudos: 59





	1. Prologue

.

PROLOGUE:  
NOTHING BUT SHADOWS 

A story has no beginning or end: arbitrarily one chooses that moment of experience from which to look back or from which to look ahead.

\- Graham Greene

.

Idris, 1899

AINSLEY FIDGETED WITH HER CHARCOAL stained hands as she looked outside at the Idris countryside passing by her.

She was nervous, something that was a somewhat foreign feeling for her. And to add to that, she wasn't entirely sure if her nervousness was due to the fact that she was staring her first year at the Shadowhunter Academy or the fact that her Uncle Will had stolen her Uncle Gabriel's carriage to take her, her older brother Marcus and his son James to the academy.

Marcus wrapped an arm around his sister as she glanced up at him. He smiled down at her reassuringly as he gazed down at her with the black eyes they shared. That made Ainsley's nervousness falter just a little as she shyly smiled back. Her brother always had the ability to make her feel better, feel safer with just one smile.

The Ashwoods turned to look at Uncle Will when he said, "Don't look so serious, Jamie," He murmured a Welsh word to the horses that made them trot faster. "Gabriel would want us to have the carriage. It's all between family."

"Uncle Gabriel mentioned last night that he had recently had the carriage painted. Many times." Said James.

"And he has threatened to summon the constabulary and have you arrested," Ainsley pointed out. "Many times."

That made Marcus chuckle as he awaited his Uncle's response.

"Gabriel will stop fussing about it in a few years." Will winked at James and Ainsley with a sparkling blue eye. "Because we will all be driving automobiles by then."

"Mother says you can never drive an automobile," said James. "She made me, Ainsley, Marcus and Lucie promise that if you ever did, we would not climb into it."

That made Will turn to the oldest child under his care who nodded in confirmation, a grin playing on his lips. He just shrugged and turned back to his son. "Your mother was just joking."

James shook his head as the half-Korean girl questioned. "Then why did she make us swear on the Angel?"

The two thirteen year olds grinned up at the man. Will just shook his head fondly at them.

Will and Tessa Herondale had always treated the Ashwoods as their own children. After Scott Ashwood and his wife Ji-a had died, the Herondales had happily opened their arms to the two children they'd left behind. It had been six years since the London Institute was home to not two children, but four. James and Lucie were both thrilled about it and never treated the two half-Koreans as if they were intruders but rather the same way they treated each other, as if they were their own siblings.   
Ainsley and Marcus were forever grateful to Will and Tessa but they couldn't quite see them as anything other then amazing and kind Uncle Will and Aunt Tessa. The Herondales didn't mind. They had never wanted to replace Scott and Ji-a, but rather be make sure that their children grow up to be the people they would have wanted.

"I know that you are nervous about going to school," Will said addressing both James and Ainsley. "Your mother and I were not sure about sending you."

He always referred to Tessa as 'your mother' even when talking to Marcus and Ainsley. They didn't mind. It made them feel as if they were part of the family and happy that Will and Tessa kept them around because they loved them and not just because they had to.

Ainsley tilted her head in confusion while James bit his lip. "Did you think we would be a disaster?"

"What?" Will said in bewilderment sharing a look with Marcus who looked just as confused. "Of course not! Your mother was simply worried about sending away the only other people in the house who has any sense. Though she does love you, Marcus."

James smiled while the Ashwoods chuckled and Marcus playfully glared at his Uncle with mock offense, a hand theatrically placed upon his chest.

"We've been very happy, having our little family all together," Will continued. "I never thought I could be so happy. But perhaps we have kept you too isolated in London. I know that Scott always wanted Marcus and Annie to go to the Academy, get to learn in a way he and I couldn't. We always intended to let them go but it would be nice for you to also find some friends your own age, Jamie. Who knows, you might meet your future parabatai at the Academy."

Ainsley knew that the reason she didn't really have any friends other then James and Lucie wasn't because Will and Tessa kept their little family isolated but rather because she never really knew how to act around people.   
She wasn't what you'd classify as shy but more reserved. She found it hard to trust people.   
There was this one incident when she was younger, at Rosamund Wentworth's 10th birthday. Rosamund and another girl, Catherine Townsend, had thought it would be funny to lock Ainsley in a closet. It was hours before Marcus found her and took her home. Since that day she's had trouble trusting people.

But at least she'd have James. Though Marcus would be there and would check up on her, he had his own friends and she didn't want to be the clingy little sister.

"Perhaps," Will went on casually, this time addressing his son, "you and Alastair Carstairs will take a liking to each other."

"He's older than me!" James protested. "He won't have any time for a new boy. Besides, if he were to be anybody's parabatai, it would be Marcus."

Will glanced at Marcus, who's arm was still resting around his little sister, sending him a kind and fatherly smile. "I didn't know you were friends with Alastair Carstairs."

"How did you not know? He's my best friend." Marcus smiled.

Will shrugged and smiled a wry little smile. "Who knows? But at any rate, that is the wonderful thing about making changes and meeting strangers, Jamie, Annie. You never know when, and you never know who, but someday a stranger will burst through the door of your life and transform it utterly. The world will be turned upside down, and you will be happier for it."

Ainsley remembered how happy Will had been when Lucie befriended Cordelia Carstairs, Alastair's little sister. It was because Will's parabatai had once been called James Carstairs. He wasn't dead, but had become a Silent Brother because of a silver drug that was eating away his life. Everyone now knew him as Brother Zachariah but to Will and Tessa he was still their Jem, as he had been to Scott and Ji-a when they were still amongst the living.   
Will had sat Ainsley and James down many times to tell them the story of how he'd met Jem and Scott or how they were the best friends anyone could've asked for. He told them that Jem and Scott were the only ones who believed in him when even Will didn't and who saw his true self. That is until Tessa and Ji-a came.

Ainsley always wished to befriend someone and love them so much that her face would glow the same way Will's did when he spoke of Jem or her father.

"I have spoken to you often of Ainsley and Marcus' parents, your mother and your uncle Jem and all they did for me. They made me a new person. They saved my soul," Will said seriously, something he very rarely was. "You do not know what it is, to be saved and transformed. But you will. As your parents, we must give you opportunities to be challenged and changed. That was why we agreed to send you to school. Even though we will miss you terribly."

"Terribly?" James asked, shyly while Ainsley looked up with curious black eyes.

"Your mother says she will be brave and keep a stiff upper lip," joked Will. "Americans are heartless. I will cry into my pillow every night."

"For me too?"

"Especially for you Annie!"

James and Ainsley laughed while Marcus smiled fondly.

The carriage rocked a little as it continued making its way though the country roads. This was really it. Ainsley was going to to academy. She was going to learn about demons and acquire different skills on how to defeat them, how to make the world a safer place. She might even meet her parabatai there.

Ainsley had always wanted a parabatai. It was like choosing a platonic soulmate. Someone who would love you and be there for you despite your flaws and shortcomings. Who would give you strength and comfort in a way no one else would be able to.  
At a time she had considered asking her brother but finally chose against it. She loved Marcus but she felt as though she didn't need a rune or a supernatural bond to prove how much her brother loved her or how much she loved him.   
Lucie was out of the question since the young girl had already announced that she planned to become parabatai with Cordelia one day and Ainsley couldn't help but smile at that.  
Then there was James but again, Ainsley chose not to ask him. James was already like her brother, she didn't need a rune to know that they already shared their own special bond. She didn't want to steal away the chance for James to maybe meet someone other then her and become parabatai with them. She knew that when it came down to it, the would have each other's back, parabatai or not.

So to find a parabatai, Ainsley would have to face one of life's horrors: socialising. 

But maybe not in that instant.

In that moment, she sighed and snuggled closer to her brother. She still had a few minutes left before she was thrown into the unfamiliar world of the Academy where she would know no one. No one but her brothers.

.

AINSLEY'S FACE LIT UP WITH wonder when they reached their destination.

The Academy was magnificent, a gray building that shone among the gathered trees like a pearl. It looked like one of the Gothic buildings from books like The Mysteries of Udolpho and The Castle of Otranto that James always read to her while she sketched. Set in the gray face of the building was a huge stained-glass window shining with a dozen brilliant colors, showing an angel wielding a blade.

The angel was looking down on a courtyard bustling with students, who's voices and laughs echoed around. They were all there to become the best Shadowhunters they could possibly be. 

The thought made Ainsley smile widely. She remembered and had heard stories about her parents and how they were brave and admirable people. How they were amazing Shadowhunters. 

How they were heroes.

She only hoped that she would measure up to at least half of the legacy her parents left her and Marcus.

Her black eyes wandered around as she got out of the carriage. They seemed to find her Uncle Gabriel who was already in the courtyard. That made her tug on Marcus' sleeve and nod towards their uncle. His face had turned an alarming shade of red. He was shouting something about 'thieving Herondales' while pacing the length of the yard.

The two siblings looked at each other, slight amusement in their eyes before bursting out into laughter. 

Will -who pretended not to notice his furious brother-in-law- turned to the dean, a lady who was unquestionably fifty years old, and smiled. She blushed.

"I'm Dean Ashdown, would you be so very kind as to give me a tour of the Academy? I was raised in the London Institute with just two other pupils." Ainsley smiled a little at the way Will's voice softened. He always did that when he spoke of her father and her Uncle Jem. "I never had the privilege of attending myself."

"Oh, Mr. Herondale!" said Dean Ashdown earning a cringe from all his children at the over-used statement when it came to Will. "Very well."

"Thank you," said Will. "Come on, Jamie, Annie."

"Oh no," said James, grasping Ainsley's hand tightly. "We'll--We'll stay here."

Will didn't seem to mind, he simply smiled and swooped down to place a fatherly kiss on his youngest ward's forehead -knowing she didn't mind public displays of affection- and winked at the older one who grinned and saluted. He ruffled his son's messy black hair before leaving with the dean on his arm but not before he sent Gabriel a wicked smile.

Marcus shook his head with a smile as the three teenagers watched Will leave. After the man was out of sight, he turned to Ainsley and James. "I'm going to find Alastair. Will you two be alright?"

Ainsley had shifted her arm so that it was looped through James' as they smiled. "We'll be fine, Oppa." His sister assured with a kind smile and soothing voice.

He could tell she was nervous. It might not happen often but he could always tell. Her eyes shine a little too brightly when she was nervous, even more so when she tries to hide it.  
But he didn't want to be overbearing so he smiled at the pair. Marcus copied Will's actions of dropping a kiss on his sister's forehead and ruffling James' hair, messing them up even more.

After he left, Ainsley turned and straightened out her foster brother's hair as he smiled at her. When they didn't look as messy as before she sighed, satisfied. She grinned over at James. "Now, should we try and make some friends?"

James didn't look very happy about the prospect of human interaction. In fact he seemed even more bothered by it then she was. And Ainsley loathed the idea of human interaction. "Or we could stay just the two of us if you want." That made the boy smile.

He looked out onto the crowd, his face dawning with recognition. "Annie." He nodded his head towards two boys. Ainsley followed her gaze her face lighting up at the sight of two boys she knew.

One of them was taller and despite having his back to her, Ainsley would recognized that mop of untidy brown hair anywhere. She had always been jealous of the boy's lavender eyes. She didn't think that they were wasted on him however, unlike most of the female population of the London Enclave.   
She'd often heard girls like Rosamund and Catherine saying, "I can't believe a boy like Christopher Lightwood could have such beautiful eyes." at parties. The only thing that had kept her from wiping the smug expressions of their faces was James who'd keep reminding her that they weren't worth it. 

Christopher was James and Lucie's cousin. Ainsley had met him a couple times during social events after the Herondales took her in but she didn't know him nearly as well as James did since the Lightwoods had moved to Idris before her parents' death. But whenever they had met he was always nice to her and she actually found the random facts he spluttered out interesting. He'd even danced with her once.

The boy beside him was substantially shorter. He was also quite thin. 

Ainsley instantly identified him as Thomas Lightwood. She'd heard a lot about him from his mother, Sophie Lightwood. Sophie often visited the Institute to see Tessa, since the two were best friends, and the Ashwoods for she had adored their father like the little brother she never had and never knew she wanted. She always talked about her son fondly but had mentioned that he was shy. That had inclined Ainsley to go talk to him when there were social events. He was extremely kind to her and Ainsley enjoyed his company. It made the girl very happy to see him there.

She could tell that James wanted to go talk to them. That any real chance they had at making friends rested on the shoulders of the Lightwood cousins. So Ainsley started walking towards them, dragging James with her. They both apologized when they would elbow someone only to be pushed out of the way as a voice called "Hullo, boys," from behind them. 

The two of them saw Thomas and Christopher both turn, radiant smiles of welcome lighting up their faces, while James and Ainsley stared at the back of a shining blond head.

Even though she'd never met him before Ainsley instantly knew who it was. Matthew Fairchild. The Consul's youngest son.

And he certainly wasn't shy.

Though she'd never had the pleasure of meeting him, Ainsley had heard plenty of stories from James. He'd told her that Matthew was always the life of the party. That everyone loved him. James told her that he would talk with grown-ups as if he were a grown-up. He would dance with old ladies. He would charm parents and grandparents, and stop babies from crying. 

Ainsley had always laughed and said, "Nobody's that perfect James."

But now that he was in front of her she had the breath knocked out of her. Matthew was handsome, though his clothes were peculiar. Matthew was wearing knee breeches when everyone else was wearing normal trousers and the few girls there wore dresses or skirts, and a mulberry-colored velvet jacket. His shining blonde hair was brushed back and Ainsley had yet to see his eyes but she was almost certain that they were stunning.

"Isn't this a bore?" Matthew asked Christopher and Thomas, the two boys James had wanted for them to befriend. "Everybody here looks like a dolt. I am already in frightful agony, contemplating my wasted youth. Don't speak to me, or I shall break down and sob uncontrollably."

"There, there," said Christopher, patting Matthew's shoulder. "What are you upset about again?"

"Your face, Lightwood," said Matthew, and elbowed him.

Ainsley couldn't help but crack a small smile at that but it quickly disappeared when she remembered that he'd just knocked into her and James.

Christopher and Thomas both laughed, drawing in close to him. They were all so obviously already friends, and Matthew was so clearly the leader. 

James looked devastated but Ainsley just saw it as a challenge. 

She might not be very big on people but she was very stubborn and determined. So if she put her mind to something, one could be damn sure Ainsley Ashwood was going to go through with it. 

She tugged James with her as she approached the three boys. "Hello." The girl greeted while James repeated her actions, though it sound more like a mouse squeak then a greeting.

Christopher gazed at them blankly which Ainsley couldn't help but find endearing. Thomas however smiled widely, especially at the girl. "Hello!"

Ainsley grinned back at him and even James managed a smile. Then Matthew Fairchild turned around to see who Thomas was addressing. Ainsley felt the air leave her lungs as her black eyes met a pair of stunning forest green ones. Matthew blinked twice at the sight. He was much taller than her, his fair hair outlined by the sun like a halo, leaving one to mistake him for an angel and not the descendant of one. 

His gaze flickered to James. "Jamie Herondale, right?" Matthew drawled.

James stiffened. "I prefer James."

Matthew ignored his words and turned back to the girl. "That would make you Ainsley Ashwood." Ainsley mutely nodded, not trusting her words. He smiled a little. "You're more beautiful then I imagined."

At that Ainsley blinked but Matthew had already moved on. He smiled widely at James. "I'd prefer to be in a school devoted to art, beauty, and culture rather than in a ghastly stone shack in the middle of nowhere filled with louts who aspire to nothing more than whacking demons with great big swords," said Matthew. "Yet here we are."

His words instantly made Ainsley forget the fact that he was attractive and kind-looking. She narrowed her eyes, her lips tugging slightly downwards.

"And I would prefer to have intelligent students," said a voice behind them. "Yet here I am teaching at a school for the Nephilim."

They turned and then started, as though they were all one being and not four -since Christopher didn't really react. The man behind them had snowy-white hair, which he looked too young to have, and horns poking out among the white locks. The most notable thing about him, however, the thing Ainsley noted right away, was that he had green skin the color of grapes.

Ainsley knew who he was: the former High Warlock of London, Ragnor Fell, who lived part-time in the countryside outside Alicante, and who had agreed this year that he would teach in the Academy as a diversion from his magical studies. 

She knew warlocks were good people, the allies of the Shadowhunters. Tessa herself was a warlock, the only one of her kind and the only one with the ability to shape-shift, and Will often talked about his friends Magnus Bane and Daciana Snow, who had been kind to him and Scott when they were young.

"Which one of you is Christopher Lightwood?" Ragnor Fell asked in a stern voice. His gaze swept them all, and landed on Thomas with narrowed eyes since he'd taken a step back. "Is it you?"

"Thank the Angel, no," Thomas exclaimed, red under his tan. Ainsley smiled a little at that but quickly pursed her lips to hide it. "No offense, Christopher."

"Oh, none taken," said Christopher airily. He blinked up at Ragnor, as he had just noticed him . "Hello, sir."

"Are you Christopher Lightwood?" Ragnor asked, somewhat menacingly.

Christopher's wandering attention became focused on a tree. "Hm? I think so."

Ragnor glared down at Christopher's brown hair. That made Ainsley anxiously cross her arms over her chest. 

"Are you not certain, Mr. Lightwood? Did you perhaps have an unfortunate encounter when you were an infant?"

"Hm?" said Christopher.

Ragnor's voice rose. "Was the encounter between your infant head and a floor?"

That was when Matthew Fairchild said, "Sir," and smiled.

That was the famous Smile James had told her about. The Smile that won Matthew extra time before bed, extra Christmas pudding, extra anything he wanted. Adults were helpless to resist the Smile.

"Sir, you will have to forgive Christopher. He's a trifle absentminded, but he is definitely Christopher. It would be very difficult to mistake Christopher for anyone else. I vouch for him, and he can't deny it."

The Smile seemed to work on Ragnor, as it worked on all adults. He unbent a tiny bit. "Are you Matthew Fairchild?"

Matthew's smile became more playful. "I could deny it if I liked. I could deny anything if I liked. But my name certainly is Matthew. It has been Matthew for years."

Ainsley turned to Matthew, instantly recognizing the quote.

The same could not be said for Ragnor Fell who was looking at the boy as if he were stuck in a hole with idiots and no way out. "What?" 

James cleared his throat. "He's quoting Oscar Wilde, sir."

Matthew glanced over at him, his green eyes suddenly wide. "Are you a devotee of Oscar Wilde?"

"He's a good writer," James said coldly. "There are a lot of good writers. I read rather a lot," he added. He then continued, his eyes fondly flickering over to Ainsley. "Though he's the only author who's work Ainsley seems to enjoy."

The girl blushed slightly, ducking her head down and making a note in her mind to get revenge for making her blush in public.

"Gentlemen," Ragnor Fell put in, his voice a dagger. "If you could tear yourselves away from your fascinating literary conversation for a moment and listen to one of the instructors in the establishment where you have supposedly come to learn? I have a letter here about Christopher Lightwood and the unfortunate incident that caused the Clave such concern."

"Yes, that was a very unfortunate accident," said Matthew, nodding earnestly as if he was sure of Ragnor's sympathy.

"And that was not the word I used, Mr. Fairchild, as I am sure you are aware. The letter says that you have volunteered to take full responsibility for Mr. Lightwood, and that you solemnly promise to keep any and all potential explosives out of his reach for the duration of his time at the Academy."

Ainsley blinked a couple times before sharing a glance with James. They both then turned to Thomas, in desperate need of an explanation. Thomas had just shook his head and begged them not to ask and though she was curious, the girl respected his wishes.

"Mr. Fell," Matthew said. "Thomas. Christopher. Ainsley. Jamie."

"James," James corrected.

"Do not worry," Matthew said with immense confidence. "I mean, certainly, worry that we are trapped in an arid warrior culture with no appreciation for the truly important things in life. But do not worry about things exploding, because I will not permit anything to explode."

"That was all you needed to say," Ragnor Fell told him, a touch of exasperation in his voice. "And you could have said it in far fewer words."

Just as soon as he was out of earshot, Thomas excitedly whispered "He was green!"

Ainsley and Matthew's replies both came at the same time.

"Perceptive." From the former with a smile and a very dry "Really," from the latter.

"Oh, really?" asked Christopher brightly. "I didn't notice."

Thomas gazed sadly at Christopher. Matthew just ignored him. "I rather liked the unique hue of our teacher. It reminded me of the green carnations that Oscar Wilde's followers wear to imitate him. He had one of the actors in, um, a play of his wear a green carnation onstage."

Ainsley knew what he was doing and didn't really like it, yet she still found herself answering. "Lady Windermere's Fan," Her arms still securely crossed over her chest.

Matthew was clearly showing off, trying to sound superior and special.

Matthew turned the Smile on her. The girl simply raised her eyebrows at him, the Smile was not working on her as it did on Ragnor, though she could feel slight butterflies bubbling in her stomach.

"Yes," he said. "Of course. Ainsley, I can see that as a fellow admirer of Oscar Wilde-"

"Uh," said a voice to James and Ainsley's left. "You new students have barely been here five minutes, and all you can find to talk about is some mundane who got sent to prison for indecency?"

"So you know Oscar Wilde too, Alastair?" Matthew asked.

James and Ainsley looked up at the taller, older boy. He had dark hair and dark brows, strongly marked, like very judgmental black strokes made by one of the rarely used paintbrushes she had back in London.

So this was Alastair Carstairs, Marcus' best friend. Ainsley had wasn't sure what she was expecting but it definitely wasn't someone so........mean-looking?

Marcus was behind him and he had his eyes closed, almost as if he were begging and his long nimble cellist fingers pinching the bridge of his nose which made Ainsley furrow her brow.

"I know of many mundane criminals," Alastair Carstairs said coldly. "I read the mundane newspapers to find hints of demonic activity. I certainly don't bother reading plays."

The two boys he was with nodded in good Shadowhunter solidarity. Marcus however -who had opened his eyes- rolled his black orbs, shaking his head. 

It was quite an amusing sight if you asked Ainsley.

Matthew laughed in their faces. "Naturally. What use do sad, unimaginative little people have for plays?" he asked. "Or paintings, or dancing, or anything that makes life interesting. I am so glad to be at this dank little school where they will try to squeeze down my mind until it is almost as narrow as yours."

He patted Alastair Carstairs on the arm. Alastair turned back to look at Marcus but the boy simply stared back. He wore a look that Ainsley knew very well. She called it his 'you-did-this-to-yourself' look.

"Run along now," Matthew suggested. "Do. Ainsley and I were talking."

Ainsley's face contorted slightly. "You were talking. I was standing here judging you."

Marcus smiled a little at that, shaking his head with slight amusement at his sister's attitude. He winked at his sister who grinned back at him.

Alastair however laughed but not at the girl's statement. Ainsley had never known a laugh could sound so angry until now. "I was only trying to give you young ones a little guidance about the way we do things in the Academy. If you're too stupid to take heed, that is not my fault. At least you have a tongue in your head, unlike this one."

He turned and glared daggers at James. 

Marcus finally looked like he couldn't keep quiet anymore and spoke up. "Okay, I think that's enough."

He was ignored as Alastair continued. "Yes, you, the one with the peculiar eyes. What are you gawping at?"

Ainsley took a step in front of her foster brother as the boy stuttered.  
His eyes had always been a sore subject for James. She knew how much the boy hated them, so much so that he always kept his reading glasses on to try to hide them. She never understood why though, just like Christopher's she found them unique and beautiful.

"Alastair." Marcus snapped, coldly. He glanced at Ainsley and James apologetically. He too was well aware of how James felt about his eyes.

Alastair Carstairs however refused to back down though his best friend seemed to be getting angrier by the second. "What's your name?"

"H-Herondale," James stammered out, his hand discreetly finding Ainsley's.

"By the Angel, his eyes are awful," said the boy to Alastair's right.

Alastair laughed again, this time with more satisfaction. "Yellow. Just like a goat's."

"Leave him alone!" Marcus exclaimed but none of his friends seemed to hear him.

James opened his mouth to defend himself but was shot down. "Don't strain yourself, Goatface Herondale," Alastair said. "Don't try to speak. You and your friends could perhaps cease obsessing about mundanes and try to think about little matters like saving lives and upholding the Law while you're here, all right?"

He then walked away, his friends laughing with him. Marcus however remained. He looked furious, a look Ainsley had never seen on her brother before. He turned to James, his face softening as he approached. Marcus placed a hand on James' shoulder looking apologetic. "Jamie?" The boy glanced up at him. "Jamie, I'm so sorry about that." The boy tried to send him a smile to tell him he was alright but it was quite obvious that Marcus saw right through it.

"Go, I'll be fine."

Marcus looked hesitant, glancing at Ainsley who nodded. She knew that James needed space. Finally Marcus sighed and left after comfortingly squeezing James's shoulder and sending his sister another apologetic look.

Matthew -who Ainsley had honestly forgotten about- laughed. "Well. What an-"

He was cut of by James snapping, "Thanks so much for dragging me into that," before turning on his heels and walking away, leaving Ainsley standing with the three boys as she sorrowfully gazed at her foster brother's retreating figure.

.

WEEKS STARTED TO GO BY. 

Things at the Academy hadn't been going any better for James. Alastair Carstairs and his cronies did everything they could to make his life hell while Marcus tried to protect his foster brother but his words always fell on deaf ears.

James also kept Ainsley at arm's length, worried that if he didn't people would start bullying her too.

It honestly broke the young girl's heart but there didn't seem to be anything she could do about it. James was very stubborn when he wanted to be and no matter how many times Ainsley tried to approach him, he'd give her the same speech that this was the only way to make sure no one bullied her too and that he'd never forgive himself if he was the reason for said hypothetical bullying.

Marcus would come pick her up at her dorm room -which she didn't have to share with anyone due to the very low percentage of girls there- and walk her to breakfast. They would usually cross James on the way and Marcus would apologize to no end even when James assuring him that there was nothing he could do and that he was grateful that Marcus at least always tried to stop his friends.

Ainsley also went out of her way to avoid Matthew Fairchild. If it hadn't been for him, James might not be acting so distant. And he was insufferable, never listening to teachers and always complaining about how the school was too violent and all lot of other things she didn't bother remembering.

Thomas had approached her a few times. He'd been alone or with Christopher and they would talk for as long as they could until Matthew would appear and Ainsley would come up with an excuse to leave.

Life wasn't ideal but it wasn't bad. That however changed.

One day, the group of students had been on the training grounds and Ragnor Fell had somehow managed to convince Matthew to participate in the day's sparring. While Ainsley was happily paired up with Thomas, James had volunteered to train with the blonde.

Everything was going fine -though James seemed to be getting annoyed that Matthew kept beating him despite not taking part in any of the training up until that day- until however a battering ram got thrown in James' direction.

"James!" Ainsley had called out as she stood frozen. 

And just as the ram was about to make impact, James turned into a shadow. When he turned back into a solid human form, he fainted. Ainsley hadn't been able to hear anything. Her feet stayed glued to the ground as she stared at her foster brother's unconscious body that was being picked up by Ragnor Fell. It wasn't until a pair of strong arms pulled her into a firm chest that Ainsley seemed to come back to the world.

"He's alright Ainsley." She heard Matthew speak in her ear. "James is alright."

In that moment she didn't care that she didn't like Matthew, she just burrowed into him as he held her close. She needed the comfort of another human being and as much as she didn't like to admit it, it felt right in Matthew's arms.

After the shock had worn of, Matthew walked to girl to the infirmary where Marcus was already residing at James' bedside. The boy had looked up to see the blonde boy leading his sister into the room. Ainsley hadn't wasted any time before running to her brother and tightly hugging him, a hug Marcus could only return with relief that she hadn't been hurt too. Ainsley had her back to Matthew and didn't notice the small smile that had made its way to his face as he watched the two siblings from afar. 

But Marcus did. Over his sister's shoulder he sent the boy a kind smile, mouthing 'thank you'. Matthew's smile grew a little as he nodded before leaving the Ashwoods alone with their foster brother.

.

AFTER THAT PRACTICALLY THE WHOLE school started treating James as if he were the plague personified. Alastair had switched from calling him 'Goatface' to 'Demon Eyes' and the whole school was quick to follow.

Ainsley stuck to his side though, this time she didn't let him push her away. Marcus did too. He seemed to be more and more distant with his friends. The girl tried to convince him to sit with her and James but he'd only smile and ruffle her hair before going to sit alone.

One morning, Ainsley met up with James before breakfast. When they walked in, much to her surprise Matthew came and ushered them to a table where Thomas and Christopher were already sitting. What surprised Ainsley even more however was that James didn't seem absolutely horrified by the fact that Matthew was dragging them over there. 

She blinked confused. Had she missed something? She glanced over at James who just smiled at her.

Christopher and Thomas seemed pleased to see them.

"Oh, have you decided not to detest Matthew any longer?" Christopher asked as Ainsley took a seat next to Thomas, sending him a smile which he returned. "I'm so glad. You were really hurting his feelings. Especially Ainsley. Though we are not supposed to talk about that to you." He gazed dreamily at the bread basket. "I forgot that."

Ainsley let out a startled chuckle, a small blush dusting her cheeks, as Thomas put his head down on the table. "Why are you the way that you are?"

Matthew reached over and patted Thomas on the back, then rescued Christopher from setting his own sleeves on fire with a candle. He gave James the candle and a smile. At that Ainsley blinked. She found a small smile stretching onto her lips. So maybe she might have been misjudging Matthew. Maybe he wasn't all that bad after all. 

"If you ever see Christopher near an open flame, take him away from it, or take it away from him," Matthew told both her and James. "Fight the good fight with me. I must be eternally watchful."

"That must be difficult, when surrounded by, um, your adoring public," said James.

"Well," said Matthew, and paused, "it's possible," he said, and paused again glancing over at Ainsley who was watching curiously, "I may have been . . . slightly showing off? 'Look, if you don't want to be friends with me, everybody else does, and you are making a big mistake.' I may have been doing that. Possibly."

At that Ainsley couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of her lips. "You were trying to jealous us into being your friends?" Matthew sheepishly smiled at her as she continued laughing.

"Is that over?" Thomas asked. "Thank the Angel. You know large crowds of people make me nervous! You know I can never think of anything to say to them! I am not witty like you or aloof and above it all like James or reserved and smart like Ainsley or living in cloud cuckoo land like Christopher. I came to the Academy to get away from being bossed by my sisters, but my sisters make me much less nervous than battering rams flying through the air and parties all the time. Can we please have some peace and quiet occasionally!"

James stared at Thomas. "Does everybody think I'm aloof?"

"No, mostly people think you're an unholy abomination upon this earth," Matthew said cheerfully. "Remember?"

Ainsley looked very confused but when James didn't take offense she assumed that the boys had talked over their differences. It made her happy for James. She was glad he had started coming out of his shell, even if it was with Matthew Fairchild.

"Why would that be?" Christopher asked politely.

James stared at the boy. He glanced at Ainsley who shrugged. "Because I can turn from flesh and blood into a ghastly shadow?"

"Oh," said Christopher. His dreamy lavender eyes focused for a moment. "That's very interesting," he told James, his voice clear. "You should let me and Uncle Henry perform many experiments on you. We could do an experiment right now."

"No, we could not," said Matthew. "No experiments at breakfast time. Add it to the list, Christopher."

Christopher sighed which made Ainsley chuckle again as she leaned over and patted his arm. Christopher glanced up at her and smiled, a smile that she returned.

From that day, the five of them became the best of friends. 

Matthew was a lot different then what Ainsley had thought he would be like. He was kind and caring. He took care of Thomas and Christopher and did what he could to protect James. He would go out of his way to make her smile with small surprises such as food he'd stolen from the kitchens.

It was funny that James used to hate him and now considered him his best friend. Ainsley would fondly tell James' children the story of the blonde boy who their father hated but who became his best friend.

It made Ainsley happy to see her foster brother happy. 

It made her happy to have made friends. She probably never would've if it wasn't for James and was extremely grateful to have a foster brother like him.   
The pair had grown even closer if that was even possible. She would let Christopher ramble on and on about a subject and never get bored, her face fitted with genuine curiosity. Matthew and her had an ongoing battle of quips and remarks going on. Thomas was always making her smile and laugh with small inside jokes only they understood. Ainsley fit in with these four boys and shared a different yet loving relationship with all of them and life started going up hill.

But that didn't last.

.

JAMES HERONDALE GOT EXPELLED FROM the Academy.

Ainsley and Matthew both stood -well, Matthew stood, Ainsley paced- in the courtyard waiting for James to arrive with   
Will. They heard footsteps and turned to find Marcus running towards them.

"Is it true?" He called as he reached Matthew and his sister. "James has been expelled?"

Before anything else could be said, the two Herondale men walked out. James brightened up at the sight of them. 

Ainsley ran up to him hugging him tightly, a hug he gladly returned. Marcus and Matthew were right on her heels, standing behind her.

Once she had let him go, Matthew went to stand next to her. "Are you expelled?" He asked, in a manner which was much to cheerful for that question. Ainsley looked over at him confused as Marcus looked at the younger boy as if he'd grown another limb.

"Yes?" James said, indicating his father and his trunk.

"I thought you were," said Matthew, nodding vigorously, making Ainsley more and more confused by the second. "So I had to act. But I wanted to make absolutely certain. You see, James, the thing is--"

He was cut of by Will's voice as he perked up. "Isn't that Alastair Carstairs?"

Ainsley shook her head at her Uncle's love for anyone bearing the name 'Carstairs' but turned to see that Alastair Carstairs was indeed approaching their group. 

She couldn't help but glare at the boy. 

The only reason James was expelled was because of him and his idiot friends. She honestly didn't understand how her sweet and caring older brother considered bullying and mean Alastair his best friend.

Alastair did not meet James's eyes as he slunk toward him. He seemed more interested in the flagstones of the courtyard. "I just wanted to say......sorry for everything," he mumbled. "Good luck."

"Oh," said James. "Thanks."

Marcus didn't say anything or even look at the boy but placed a hand on Alastair's shoulder. 

"No hard feelings, old sport," said Matthew. "As a bit of a jolly prank, I put all your belongings in the south wing. I don't know why I did that! Boyish high spirits, I suppose."

Ainsley was confused as to when he had managed to do that but assumed it was before he'd come to tell her about the news of what had happened which resulted in James' expulsion.

"You did what?" Alastair gave Matthew a panicked look, and departed at speed. 

Marcus looked wide-eyed at Matthew before taking of after his best friend, calling. "See at the end of the year Uncle Will!"

Ainsley couldn't help but blink at that, before shaking her head. She honestly worried about Marcus sometimes.

The brunette turned back to Matthew, her arms crossed over her chest. Matthew who stood next to her turned to Will and dramatically clasped his hand.

"Oh, Mr. Herondale!" he said. "Please take me with you!"

Ainsley raised her eyebrows before glancing at James who shrugged. At times she wondered what made her want to become friends with the boy. But she didn't regret it.

"It's Matthew, isn't it?" The Herondale man asked. He tried to disengage his hand. Matthew clung to it with extreme determination. The girl and James shared a smile. If Matthew was anything, it was determined.

"You see," Matthew proceeded, "I am also expelled from the Shadowhunter Academy."

At that Ainsley frowned uncrossing her arms. She practically pounced onto the boy, holding his arm. "What? When? Why? Where? How?"

At the same time as James asked. "You got expelled?" 

"In about four minutes," Matthew said. "Because I broke my solemn word, and exploded the south wing of the Academy." James, Ainsley and Will all looked at the south wing. It looked as it had the whole time she'd been there, stable and ancient. "I hoped it would not come to this, but it has. I gave Christopher certain materials that I knew he could turn into explosives. I measured them very carefully, I made sure they were slow acting, and I made Thomas swear to bring Christopher away. I have left a note explaining that it was all my fault, but I do not wish to explain this to Mother. Please take me with you to the London Institute, so I can be taught how to be a Shadowhunter with James!" 

"Charlotte will cut off my head," said Will but his ward could tell that he wanted to very, very, very badly. She knew he enjoyed wickedness and Matthew could be very wicked. And he too would fall victim to The Smile eventually, she just knew it.

"Father, please," James said in a quiet voice. 

"Mr. Herondale, please!" Matthew continued pleading. "We cannot be parted. We are going to be parabatai." 

Both James and Ainsley turned to the blonde with matching looks of surprise. Ainsley glanced at James as if to ask about it but it looked like this was news to him as well. Will didn't really seem to notice their reactions, he just blinked in understanding. "Oh, I see." Matthew nodded encouragingly, and smiled encouragingly. "Then nobody should come between you," said Will. 

"Nobody." Matthew repeated. "Exactly." 

"Very well," Will agreed. "Everybody say goodbye to Annie and get into the carriage."

Ainsley looked at the carriage with narrowed eyes for a second. "Did you steal Uncle Gabriel's carriage again?"

Will simply put on a serious face. "This is Jamie's time of trouble. He would want me to have it, and he would have given it to me if I asked him, which as it happens I did not." 

Both residents of the London Institute shared yet another look and shook their heads in amusement. Will winked at Ainsley before placing a kiss on her hairline and mumbling that he'd be here at the end of the year to pick her up. James then hugged her tightly, the two whispering that they'd see each other again soon.

When he let go, he passed Matthew, patting his shoulder on the way. The blonde nervously smiled under the girl's gaze. Ainsley had crossed her arms over her chest, her weight resting on one leg. She raised her eyebrows at him while he approached. "You could've told me."

"I didn't want to get you in trouble, Leo."

"Leo?"

"Short for Leonie." Matthew smiled at her shyly. "Your middle name. I won't call you that if you don't like it." He added urgently.

A small face fought its way onto Ainsley's soft features. "I like it." Her black eyes always seemed to soften whenever the boy opened his mouth. "You're a good friend Matthew Fairchild."

He grinned down at her. "I'll take care of him." He assured.

"I know."

Matthew stepped forward and took her into his arms, Ainsley instantly feeling herself relax under his touch. She laid her head on his chest, the fast beating of his heart -which she dismissed as residual nerves from his speech to Will- flooding her ears and held around his waist as Matthew's arms were holding her close to him. 

It seemed like an eternity before they pulled away, but Matthew's arms rested around the girl's waist. She smiled at him, reaching up to brush a lock of hair out of his eyes.

"Now you should go." Matthew smiled. "I'd hate to hear that Ainsley Ashwood was hurt."

Ainsley giggled a little at that. "Try not to forget about me." She joked before backing away out of his hold. She waved her hand before running back to the building, to get to safety and possibly find Thomas and fill him in on what was happening.

Matthew stood there, staring at the spot where Ainsley had just been standing, the familiar rose water scent still surrounding him. "I could never." He whispered.

.

A/N  
The prologue of 'Believer'! It's based on 'Nothing but Shadows' from Tales of the Shadowhunter Academy and I hope you all enjoyed it. The chapters in this book will based on the chapters of Cassandra Clare's books. This is the first trilogy I'm publishing in a project I am starting as I impatiently awaited the release of Chain of Iron.   
I have yet to write my trilogy on TID describing the story of Marcus and Ainsley's parents but I will get to work on it as soon as I have finished 'Believer' and planned out the next book of Ainsley's adventures based on Chain of Iron.  
And this is possibly the longest prologue I have ever written! It was fun though 😁  
Anyways, I hope you all liked it and will like the rest.

.


	2. I.

.

BETTER ANGELS

The shadows of our own desires stand between us and our better angels, and thus their brightness is eclipsed.

—Charles Dickens, Barnaby Rudge

.

London, 1903

IT WOULD BE A LIE to say that Ainsley Ashwood wasn't surprised when she heard Matthew Fairchild call out.

She had been conversing with Thomas and Christopher Lightwood when all three of them had heard their friend's voice calling in the alley under them. They had wasted no time in jumping off the roof of the building from which they were keeping watch.

Each took out their weapons; Thomas his bolas -a contraption made of ropes and weights he'd newly adopted-, Christopher his bow and Ainsley her mother's Korean combat sword called a jingum.

They landed among the empty alcohol bottles, dirt, animal bones and garbage. They had already runed themselves before leaving the Institute to go on their nightly patrol.

Matthew had appeared at Ainsley's side, armed with a seraph blade. They glanced at each other, sharing a short smile before turning back to deal with the task at hand.

They saw a demon emerged from the shadows, roaring. It had a ribbed gray body, a curving, sharp beak lined with hooked teeth, and splayed paw-like feet from which ragged claws protruded.

A groan left Ainsley's lips at the sight of it. What were the odds that the first time they actually find a demon in the streets of London, it's ginormous and disgusting? She recognized it as a Deumas demon -because contrary to what he thought, she did actually listen when James rambled to her- and grew even more annoyed when she remembered that they were quite vicious and dangerous.

Speaking of James, he would have been attacked by said dangerous demon if Thomas hadn't reached forward and wrapped the cords of his bolas and yanked it backwards.

The Deumas hit the ground with another roar, just as James let two of his throwing knives fly. One plunged into the demon's throat, the other into its forehead. 

James' eyes then widened as he began to call out, "Matthew—" The creature burst apart, showering Thomas, Christopher, Ainsley and Matthew in ichor and burnt bits of what could only be described as goo.

Ainsley stood frozen still for a second, before finally looking down at the state of herself. She was suddenly very grateful that her mouth hadn't been open. Her face then morphed to one of disbelief as she looked over at Thomas. He seemed to wear the same look on his face.

Most demons vanished when they died. But not Deumas demons. Noooooooooo, they just have to be the ones that explode.

"How—wha—?" Christopher stuttered, at a clear loss for words. Slime dripped off his pointed nose and gold-rimmed spectacles. "But how...?"

"Do you mean how is it possible that we finally tracked down the last demon in London and it was also the most disgusting?" James questioned standing on the other side of the alley, completely clean. "Ours is not to question why, Christopher."

Ainsley glared at him as James simply sent his foster sister a smug smile. 

She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see her parabatai holding out a clean handkerchief out to her. The brunette girl grinned thankfully and sadly looked at him as Thomas used a half burnt one to clean himself.

Thomas always did that. Gave her the better things and kept the average or bad ones for him. He was honestly the kindest person she knew and she adored him for it.   
In the time at the Academy after James, Matthew and Christopher had been expelled Thomas and Ainsley got even closer. They were best friends. Thomas was the one person Ainsley felt like she could trust with anything and everything under the sun and in her never stopping mind. Eventually, Ainsley grew the courage to ask Thomas to be her parabatai and the boy gladly accepted. 

She watched him and saw that his half burnt handkerchief was doing practically nothing, which made her get on the tip of her toes and start cleaning him of on her own -which proved to be quite hard since Thomas' 6'5 frame towered over Ainsley's 5'6 one. Thomas looked as if he wanted to protest but the look Ainsley sent him was enough to make him shut up.

She was quite good at that. Making people shut up with a single glance.

Next to her, Matthew threw his sputtering seraph blade to the ground. "This is an outrage," He said. "Do you know how much I spent on this waistcoat?"

The only girl raised her eyebrows at him. "A lot?"

"Yes!"

"No one told you to go out patrolling for demons dressed like an extra from The Importance of Being Earnest," said James, tossing him a clean handkerchief.

Ainsley giggled at that as Thomas finally got her to stop cleaning him of and made her work on herself while he turned to start cleaning of Christopher. "I don't think he's dressed like an extra," said Thomas.

"Thank you," said Matthew with a slight bow.

"I think he's dressed like a main character." Thomas grinned. 

Ainsley grinned, looking over at Matthew who was mopping at his dull gold hair with James's handkerchief. "I'm more inclined to agree with James." She joked making the boy throw some slime on her. Ainsley squealed and lunged behind Thomas who shook his head amused. She peeked from behind the tall boy and sighed, her voice trying to be as sincere as possible. "Okay, I apologize. Would you like me to mourn with you? We could wrap white bands around our wrists and cry to the injustice of exploding demons."

The blonde narrowed his green eyes at her playfully. "I do not appreciate your mockery, Leo." The girl simply sent him a teasing smile. "This is the first time in a year that we've patrolled and actually found a demon, so I'd supposed that my waistcoat would probably survive the evening." The boy stated as his gaze swept over his companions and he pointed out. "It's not as if any of you are wearing gear either."

Ainsley couldn't argue with him on that point. She had decided to just go patrolling in a simple grey dress and swore Lucie to secrecy when the younger girl saw her leaving, begging her foster sister not to tell Will, Tessa or Marcus.

"Stop scrubbing at me, Thomas," spoke Christopher for the first time in quite some time, windmilling his arms. "We should go back to the Devil and clean up there."

The group all made sounds to express agreement and they all fell into step and easy conversation. 

.

WHEN SHE WAS LITTLE AND couldn't sleep, Ainsley remembered begging her parents -and after their death, her Uncle Will- for stories about their nightly patrols and how they defeated demons and protected Mundanes. They had all told her that they had happened at least encountered three to four demon nests every night. But, while her and her boys faithfully patrolled every night, this was the first night they had actually encountered a demon in a year's time.

Whenever she brought up the lack of demons in London, James always told her that it was a good thing.   
Ainsley wasn't inclined to agree. She found it quite worrying and curious. She would go through books about demons and their disappearance, contact the youth in other Institutes and keep a regular correspondence with Matthew's mother, the woman she's grown up calling Aunt Charlotte, who happened to be the Consul, to try and figure out what was going on. She never could resist a mystery.

Though, that night all Ainsley wanted to do was go and clean herself of and sit at the Devil Tavern with the boys by her side. She inhaled the night air, letting the wind hit her face with close eyes. She knew that one of the boys -most certainly Thomas- would stop her from walking into something or someone in the way. 

But she missed the forest green eyes that lovingly gazed upon her shorter figure.

The Devil made its home at No. 2 Fleet Street, next to a respectable-looking print shop. But the Tavern was hidden to Mundanes by glamours. None of them could hear the raucous noises of debauchery that poured from the seams of the windows and open doors.   
It was a place where werewolf, vampire, warlock and fey were one. They sang and they laughed and they drank together the whole night.

The usual welcome for Shadowhunters in a place like this would have been a cold one, but the patrons of the Devil Tavern were used to the Merry Thieves and their Maid Marian. They greeted James, Christopher, Matthew, Ainsley and Thomas with yells of welcome and mockery. 

James moved towards the bar where he was met by their favorite barmaid; Polly the werewolf. She had actually been the one to give the group of friends their nickname as Robin Hood and his men as well as the beautiful yet brave woman who stood by their side. 

The others however just stalked up the stairs, Ainsley racing up first to beat them to the bathroom. She laughed when she heard the three boys groaning and protesting when she slammed the bathroom door, letting them know she was going first. It didn't take her too long to clean of however. 

She let the water wash away the slim and ichor and grim on her skin and in her hair, rubbing the sandalwood scented soap bar against her skin. She let relief fill her soul at the feeling of cleanliness as she moved to the bedroom and took out a soft blue dress she'd kept there for emergencies. 

When Ainsley walked out to where the boys were, Matthew quickly rushed into the room closing it with a slam. She looked at it wide-eyed before turning to the two Lightwood who had playful smirks on their faces. "What was that about?"

"Everyone grieves differently." Thomas shrugged. The girl managed a smile with a shake of her head as she continued towel drying her hair before leaving it open over her shoulders.

She sat down on the sofa, after grabbing a book from the wide collection the five kept and patting the noseless bust of Apollo on the head as she passed him.

Ainsley wasn't entirely fond of reading on her own when she was younger. She didn't mind it when James -or anyone else for that matter- read to her, in fact she enjoyed it and still did, but back then she didn't really like reading unless it was Oscar Wilde. But as the years advanced, Ainsley grew to enjoy reading a little more, especially after the discovery of Arthur Conan Doyle and his quite eccentric protagonist.

She got so lost in the adventures of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, that she didn't realize that Matthew had returned from the bathroom in clean clothes and had taken place next to her until he said, "Sherlock Holmes again?"

Ainsley jumped with a slight yelp. She turned to glare at the boy slightly. "By the Angel, Math. Don't do that."

She got nothing other then a teasing smile in response. He sighed leaning his head back to stare up at the ceiling, completely aware of the girl's expectant glance. "I don't get what's so fascinating about them." He stated. "There's a murder. He solves it. End of story."

"Well maybe if you tried reading one instead of just judging them," Ainsley sent the boy a pointed look, her page being marked with a bookmark Will had gotten made for her, the lines 'There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written. That is all.' engraved onto it. "You'd see that there's more then just that."

Matthew tilted his head to look at her. "You're absolutely right." He quickly got to his feet, wrenching the book out of the girl's hold. 

"Matthew!" The half-Korean girl exclaimed as he held it above his head, well above where Ainsley's shorter frame could reach. But that didn't stop her, she stood on top of the sofa and reached out, trying to grab the book Matthew so desperately wanted to keep away from her. 

Ainsley almost succeeded in grabbing it, but didn't realize that she was at the edge of the sofa until she slipped.

A cry left the girl's lips as her eyes closed and she waited for the impact. But it never came.  
Instead she felt strong firm arms catch her around her slim waist. Ainsley's arms wound up around Matthew's shoulders, as he kept her from falling to the ground. Their faces were separated by a mere matter of inches as Ainsley's brown hair spilled over one of her shoulders.

This close to him she could smell the scent of the sandalwood soap and dried leaves with a touch of brandy. He smelled of familiarity, of home. From this close, she could see all the lines of his forest green irises, the fine fair hairs of his shaved stubble and the bobbing of his Adam's apple.

"Thank you." She breathed staring into his eyes, a stunned look on both their faces. Matthew made not attempt to let her go, only set her straighter on her feet. She could feel the book resting on her hip as his arms stayed around her waist while hers rested on his shoulders.

"It's- It's nothing." Matthew smiled at her, his cheeks dusting over slightly. It was a shy and genuine smile. A smile the effortlessly stretched on his beautiful face. One that Ainsley wished she could see more often. 

Though she couldn't complain, she was the only person who ever saw it to begin with.

Ainsley noticed that Matthew had been different the past couple of years. Before, he'd always smile as wide as his face was, a smile that reached his eyes and made them twinkle with joy and mischief. But now, Ainsley seemed to be only one with the privilege of seeing it. Whenever he smiled, it was either fake, a tool to charm and persuade or an attempt to hide how drunk he was.

It broke her heart but the last time she mentioned his drinking, he refused to talk to her for a week. So she smiled back sweetly, her hands falling to her sides. 

Her lips pursed to hide a smirk making the boy raise an eyebrow. "What is it?"

Ainsley brought the book to his chest and whispered with a triumphant grin. "I've got the book."

She broke out of his hold as he groaned at how he hadn't noticed it leaving his grasp, to engrossed in the girl's delicate features and intoxicated by her rose water scent mixed with the sandalwood soap. She giggled moving to sit at round table, similar to the one owned by King Arthur and his Knights.

Muttering under his breath, Matthew moved to sit next to her and staring at her profile as she returned to her reading. Feeling his gaze, Ainsley looked up with a raised eyebrow. He didn't even attempt to act as if he hadn't been staring. "Yes, Matthew?"

"Why do you like these books so much?"

"You know I like mysteries." The girl shrugged.

It was true but she knew it wouldn't be enough for the blonde boy. She hates how observant he was. As predicted, Matthew shook his head. "It's more then that." He raised his eyebrows. His face held no ill-intent or malice, just curiosity. "You don't have to tell me. I just want you to know I can keep a secret."

There was something in his voice that confused Ainsley, a tone she couldn't quite decipher. But she sighed. "It's not a secret." She said. The girl opened her mouth to tell him before breaking of and shaking her head. "Forget about it. It's stupid."

"It can't be stupid." Matthew insisted. He took her smaller hand in his as her eyes found his again. Obsidian black clashing with forest green.

Ainsley honestly didn't have the faintest clue as to why it was so hard for her to admit that the reason she liked Sherlock Holmes so much was because of her father. Her interest for mystery had come from her late father who -much like herself- was drawn towards them.   
Will had once let it slip that Scott enjoyed reading Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's works which lead to Ainsley hunting one of them down in the London Institute's giant collection of literature. From there she was put under a spell.   
Reading about Sherlock and John in a weird way made her feel closer to her father, a man about who she didn't remember much save for his warm laugh and kind smile that she saw every time she looked in a mirror.

Maybe it was because she thought Matthew or any of the others wouldn't understand. She was the only member of their little group who didn't have parents anymore. All of the Merry Thieves' parents were still alive and in a happy, loving relationship with each other. Only their Maid Marian was left to cling on to a book character or a weapon to feel closer to parents she couldn't quite recall.

Both teenagers hadn't realized that they had spent the last minute staring at each other, only coming back to reality when Thomas opened the door bedroom door.   
They quickly let go of each other's hand and glanced away, Matthew awkwardly scratching the back of his neck while Ainsley busied herself with opening her book again. Thomas looked at them with a raised eyebrow. "Am I interrupting?" 

The other two immediately shook their heads, telling him not to be ridiculous. Thomas only smiled mutely before taking place in front of where the pair say side by side.  
Ainsley narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the look her parabatai was sending her and Matthew. But Thomas didn't pursue it, turning to face the blonde and talk to him. The girl sighed, turning her gaze back to the white page lined with black ink.

She payed no mind to what the boys were talking about as she read. She only snapped back to her surroundings when she heard the door opening and glanced back to see James entering with five glasses, a bottle of alcohol and a couple dish towels. 

"James!" Matthew cheered making Ainsley glance back at him, his enthusiasm confusing her. That was when she spotted the half-drunk bottle of brandy on the table. A soft sigh left her lips as she glanced back up at the blonde boy's face. It wore a smile she wished it didn't; the one to hide how drunk he was. "Is that a bottle of cheap spirits I see before me?"

James set the wine down on the table just as Christopher emerged from the door at the far end of the attic space. It lead to the small bedroom that they used for storing extra weapons and clothes.

"James," Christopher said, looking pleased. "I thought you'd gone home."

"Why on earth would I go home?" James took a seat beside Thomas, noting his parabatai and foster sister's positions. "Especially without Ainsley?" He winked over at his foster sister who smiled before closing her book.

"No idea," Christopher pulled up a chair next to the girl. "But you might have. People do odd things all the time. We had a cook who went to do the shopping and was found two weeks later in Regent's Park. She'd become a zookeeper."

Thomas raised his eyebrows and turned to share a look with his parabatai. It wasn't that they didn't trust the lavender-eyed boy. They just didn't always put faith in the stories Christopher told because most of the time he tended not to be paying attention to what was actually happening.

That didn't stop the girl from offering her friend a kind smile that he cheerfully returned. 

"Your hand," Matthew said suddenly, leaning forward and fixing his green eyes on James. That made Ainsley's focus shift from her friend to her foster brother. "What happened?"

"Just a cut," James said, opening his hand. It was a long diagonal slice across his palm. 

"Jamie, why didn't you tell us?" Ainsley frowned as Matthew took James's hand, her big eyes catching a glimpse of the silver bracelet that James always wore on his right wrist when it clinked against the hock bottle on the table. 

"I would have fixed you up in the alley." Matthew agreed as he reached for the stele in his waistcoat.

"I forgot," James said.

"You forgot?" The girl repeated, not believing him for a second.

Thomas ran his finger around the rim of his glass without drinking as he asked, "Did something happen?"

"It was very quick," James said but Ainsley noticed the reluctance in his tone to which her eyebrow raised up.

"Many things that are 'very quick' are also very bad," Said Matthew, setting the point of his stele to James's skin. "Guillotines come down very quickly, for instance. When Christopher's experiments explode, they often explode very quickly."

The half-Korean girl couldn't help but smile at Matthew's attempt to lighten the mood. She knew it would make James more inclined to share. "Clearly, I have neither exploded nor been guillotined," said James. "I—went into the shadow realm."

Matthew's head jerked up, though his hand didn't stop tracing the iratze, on James' skin. Ainsley and Thomas shared another look, this time worry flashing in their eyes. 

The shadow realm was a place a place only James had been. No one, not even Matthew who practically shared his soul with the boy, could follow. 

"I thought all that business had stopped," Matthew said. 

"Didn't Uncle Jem help you with that?"

"He did help me." James answered his foster sister's question. "It's been a year since the last time. I suppose it was too much to hope it was gone forever."

"Doesn't it usually happen when you're upset?" said Thomas. "Was it the demon attacking?"

"No," James said quickly. A little too quickly, which made Ainsley's eyebrows raise. "No, I can't imagine—no." 

"Demons don't bother our boy," said Matthew, finishing the healing rune. "It must have been something else."

"Maybe you should talk to Uncle Jem." Ainsley offered. "He might be able to help. He always is."

James shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. "It was nothing. I was surprised by the demon; I grabbed at the blade by accident. I'm sure that's what caused it."

"Did you turn into a shadow?" said Matthew, putting his stele away. Sometimes, when James was pulled into the shadow realm, his friends reported back that they could see him blurring around the edges. At times he'd even been able to phase through solid objects, like that one time at the Academy.

Christopher looked up from his notebook. "Speaking of the demon—"

"Which we weren't," Matthew pointed out, he glanced at Ainsley who chuckled.

"—what kind was it again?" Christopher asked, biting the end of his pen. He often wrote down details of their demon-fighting expeditions. He claimed it helped him in his research though Ainsley was almost certain it was because he wanted to remember the events correctly. "The one that exploded, I mean."

"As opposed to the one that didn't?" said James.

Ainsley rolled her eyes with a smile as Thomas said, "It was a Deumas, Christopher. Odd it was here; they're not usually found in cities."

"Oh, that's what was odd about it?"

The boys paid Ainsley no mind, their focus going to corked test tube Christopher had produced from... somewhere instead. "I saved some of its ichor. I caution all of you not to drink any of it."

Ainsley pouted. "Well, there goes my plan."

Matthew chuckled as he gazed at her fondly while James and Thomas just shook their heads in exasperation at her never ending supply of remarks. 

"Enough talk of ichor." The blonde shuddered. Instead he raised his glass up. "Let's toast again to Thomas being home!"

Thomas protested but James had already raised his glass and toasted with Matthew and Ainsley. Christopher was about to clink his test tube against James's glass but Ainsley confiscated it, and handed it to Matthew who muttered in annoyance under his breath before handing Christopher a glass of hock. 

When a Shadowhunter turned eighteen, they could leave their home and go to visit another Institute around the world. It was how her own parents had met, when Ji-a had come to London for her travel year. She'd met Scott, who was a resident of the London Institute, and eventually they fell in love.

It had been only a couple weeks since Thomas had returned from his nine month trip to Madrid -coincidentally where his father had gone on his travel year- and it was an understatement to say that he'd broadened. More in a physical sense that is. 

He'd always been slight and slim when it came to bodies. Ainsley almost hadn't recognized her parabatai as he'd descended the gangplank when her and the boys had gone to pick him up. But when he sent her a wide smile, she had been relieved to see that despite his drastic change in physique, he was still the kind and caring boy she loved. She had missed him so much that she didn't let him go until Matthew had picked her up and moved her out of the way so that he might hug their friend.

"When you're entirely done, I do have some news," Thomas said, tipping his chair back. "You know that old manor in Chiswick that once belonged to my grandfather? Used to be called Lightwood House?"

"You mean the one that was completely destroyed after your grandfather turned into a giant demonic worm?" Ainsley questioned sarcastically.

Thomas rolled his eyes and sent her a playful glare to which she beamed. "It was given to my aunt Tatiana by the Clave some years ago, but she's never used it—preferred to stay in Idris at the manor with my cousin, er..."

"Gertrude," said Christopher helpfully.

"No," Ainsley intervened, "It's-"

"Grace," James interrupted. "Her name is Grace."

That made both Matthew and Ainsley both share a look.

"Yes, Grace," continued Thomas, not noticing the blonde and his parabatai. "Aunt Tatiana's always kept them both in splendid isolation in Idris—no visitors and all that—but apparently she's decided to move back to London, so my parents are all in a dither about it."

James looked at Thomas at that. "Grace," he began. He looked away when he saw Matthew and Ainsley both shoot him a quick glance, the former knowingly and the latter confused. "Grace—is moving to London?"

"Seems Tatiana wants to bring her out in society." Thomas looked puzzled. "I suppose you've met her, in Idris?" He glanced at Ainsley as well. "Doesn't your house there adjoin Blackthorn Manor?"

The Herondale house in Idris did adjoin with the Blackthorn house. Though Ainsley had never had the pleasure -or rather the displeasure- of meeting Grace Blackthorn in the ten years she had gone there with her legal guardians.   
She tried to avoid the Blackthorn house at all costs, it always gave her a bad feeling and looked haunted. Not to mention its inhabitant hated her guts and anything to do with her family.

But she knew for a fact that James had met Grace. She watched as he nodded in confirmation, resembling more the description of the automatons her family had fought in their youth then a human being. "I usually see her every summer," he said. "Not this summer, of course." 

Not this summer indeed. The Herondales and Ashwood siblings had stayed in London that summer. Ainsley personally hadn't minded, it meant she got to spend more time with Matthew and Christopher as they awaited Thomas' return. But she had noticed that James had been much moodier then he usually was. She wondered if it was because he wasn't able to see Grace.

Ainsley caught sight of the way Matthew was looking at James. A way that said he knew something. Though she couldn't exactly say she was surprised, parabatai told each other everything.

But for some reason Ainsley couldn't seem to tear her gaze away.

"London is being positively swarmed by new arrivals," Matthew remarked, his gaze turning over to the girl who realized the she had been staring. Her face flushed as Matthew sent her an award-winning smile. "Leo, didn't you mention something about the Carstairs family being with us soon?"

Leo. Only Matthew was allowed to call her that.

James and Ainsley nodded. "Lucie is wild with excitement to see Cordelia." James explained.

"And your father." The girl pointed out. "I'm honestly starting to get worried." She joked.

They knew it wasn't true. She was already convinced her Uncle Will was a madman.

Matthew poured some more wine into his empty glass. "Can't blame them for being tired of rusticating in Devon—what's that house of theirs called? Cirenworth? I gather they arrive in a day or two—"

And then out if nowhere, Thomas upset his drink. James's drink and Christopher's test tube went with it.   
Though it wasn't too surprising. He'd been doing it since he'd gotten back from Spain, still not used to his giant-like limbs. And Ainsley probably would have chalked it off as that if it hadn't been for the panicked look in her parabatai's hazel eyes.

"All of the Carstairs family are coming, did you say?" said Thomas.

Ainsley raised an eyebrow and shared a look with Matthew. The blonde answered, "Not Elias Carstairs," 

"But Cordelia, and... oh, bloody hell." Ainsley groaned when she realized why Thomas seemed so stunned.

Christopher wasn't too far behind her as he bitterly said. "Alastair Carstairs. I'm not remembering incorrectly? He's an awful pill?"

" 'Awful pill' seems a kind way of putting it," said James. 

At first Ainsley maybe considered giving Alastair Carstairs a chance. He was Marcus' best friend after all. That consideration disappeared in two seconds of meeting the boy. He might have made sure to never speak a bad word to or about her but the way he treated her boys got him her everlasting hate. She couldn't figure out why on God's green Earth her older brother loved the Carstairs boy like a brother.

Though something she could understand was why Thomas might be anxious to see him again. He was the only one of the Merry Thieves who hadn't been 'attacked' by Alastair at the Academy and as if things weren't awkward enough, Thomas had mentioned running into him when he spent a week in Paris during his travel year to her.

Since James wasn't aware of the Paris trip, he seemed to think that Thomas was just worried about him and his friends being ill-treated which led him to say, "We can avoid Alastair, Tom. There's no reason for us to spend time with him, and I can't imagine he'll be yearning for our society either."

Thomas spluttered instead of answering, widely gawking at something. Ainsley's black eyes followed and she understood why her parabatai looked so baffled. 

The contents of Christopher's spilled test tube had turned a violent puce and begun to eat through the table. They all leaped up. She was especially grateful to have been standing a little further away from the table when Thomas hurled a pitcher of water at the table, which drenched Christopher. Both Ainsley and Matthew burst into laughter, the former bringing a hand up to cover her mouth in a poor attempt to muffle her laughter while the latter doubling over.

"I say," said Christopher, his head bobbing up and down with approval. "I do think that worked, Tom. The acid has been neutralized."

Thomas was shaking his head. "Someone should neutralize you, you mopstick—"

Matthew's laughter increased as he let his arm fall around Ainsley's shoulders and leaned against her to stay steady. Their laughter was so infectious that they were soon joined by the Lightwood cousins and they all laughed. 

All but James Herondale who was pensively looking out into space.

And that made Ainsley's worry for her foster brother increase. But it could wait until tomorrow.

.

A/N  
The first chapter of 'Believer'! I hope you all enjoyed it. I promise there will be more Ainsley moments coming up, moments that will really highlight her personality and that will hopefully make you love her as much as I do.   
I just love Chain of Gold so much and I hope I'll be able to do it justice with Ainsley.   
And just that final scene where Thomas throws the water onto Christopher, it made me thing of Will throwing water at Henry in TID to put out the fire on his arm in chapter three of Clockwork Angel.  
I would also like to give a special thanks to @cocastyle who let me borrow the title 'The Merry Thieves and their Maid Marian' from her amazing Matthew Fairchild fanfiction, 'Silver Threads'. Go check it out if you haven't already 😉

.


	3. II.

.

BETTER ANGELS  
(Part 2)

The world and everything in it had changed . . . people passed me as I sat—people who laughed and joked and gossiped. It seemed to me that I watched them almost as a dead man might watch the living.

—Arthur Conan Doyle, The Fate of the Evangeline

.

AINSLEY'S BLACK EYES WATCHED LUCIE with amusement. 

Tessa, James and Lucie Herondale had come to greet the Carstairs family to London. They had brought the Ashwoods with them who had happily obliged. 

Ainsley wasn't particularly close to Cordelia but the few times she had met her she had found the girl likeable. And she was Lucie's best friend, her soon-to-be parabatai. To Ainsley, someone who could make her foster sister that happy was a good person in her very thin and meticulously organized book.

The half-Korean girl was smiling down at the younger girl who was excitedly bouncing on the balls of her feet in her blue dress and coat when she felt an arm wrap around her shoulders. That shifted her gaze from Lucie over to Marcus who had casual side-hugged her.

She smiled up at him as he placed a kiss on her forehead.

Will often looked at Marcus -and even Ainsley at times- with a faraway look in his blue eyes. It was because Marcus' kindness and will to try to see the best in people as well as effortless ability to charm and make people feel better, not to mention his ridiculous theatrics that reminded the man of Scott. Though she didn't remember her father as well as she'd want to, she remembered that he was kind and loving and very, very dramatic which inclined her to agree with her uncle when he said that Marcus had inherited all those traits. (Not that she hadn't inherited any, just a little less)

Marcus was her hero. He was always there for her and he always loved her. He was her only biological family left and did everything he could to bring a smile upon his little sister's face. He was so kind and loving to everyone -a very sharp contrast from his reserved and closed off sister.   
Everyone liked Marcus. The same way everyone had liked Scott.

"Oppa." The girl giggled. 

Despite growing up in Britain for the past ten of their lives, the Ashwood siblings were both still fluent in the language of their mother's home country, Korean.

They had grown up in the Seoul Institute up until Scott and Ji-a's untimely deaths. After moving to London, they continued speaking the language, not wanting to lose it. They even taught James and Lucie some words. But that meant that Ainsley didn't lose the habit of calling her older brother, well, older brother.

She then felt a tugging at the sleeve of her black coat that covered her dark gray dress and turned to see Lucie's beaming face. That brought a smile onto her own face. "What is it Luce?"

"They're here!" Just then the Carstairs carriage pulled up at 102 Cornwall Gardens.

Ainsley smiled down at her enthusiasm and excitement. She knew that she was the same when Thomas was coming back from Spain. She turned to look at Marcus who was also looking at Lucie with fondness.

"Oof!" The Ashwoods and Lucie all turned to see Cordelia stumble as she exited the carriage. But what Ainsley found curious was how James was already there to catch her.

The night before James and come into her room where she was sketching the London skyline that one could notice out her window and slumped down on her bed. Ainsley took that as a sign that he wanted to talk. They did this sometimes. Whenever they were in the Institute and neither of their parabatai was around the duo found peace in just talking with one another. It eased their nerves. They would talk about anything and everything.

The conversation had veered towards how James was not looking forward to having to face Alastair Carstairs. 

So it surprised her that James was the first at the carriage.

Ainsley didn't have much time to contemplate though since Lucie had grabbed her wrist and dragged her towards where Alastair was exiting the carriage. The girl reached back and grabbed her brother's hand to drag him with her. If she was getting dragged so was he.

They approached the three others to hear James say. "I see you're here, Alastair. And you look..."

His voice trailed of and Ainsley could understand why. He looked different. And by different, his formerly dark hair was now platinum blonde.

"You look well," James managed.

"What are you talking about Jamie?" Marcus started, his voice laced with mock horror. "He looks like a turnip."

Ainsley pursed her lips and let go of her brother to bring her hand up to her mouth to muffle her laugh but it didn't stop the slight shake in shoulders. Alastair sent Marcus a playful glare to which the half-Korean young man only grinned.

They both starting laughing and shared a manly embrace with a lot -and I mean a lot- of shoulder patting. "It's good to see you." Marcus smiled sincerely.

"You too."

Their pleasantries couldn't go any further however since Lucie had raced away from Ainsley's side and thrown her arms around Cordelia "I am so very, very delighted to see you!" she said, in her usual happy tone. "Darling Cordelia, we shall have so much fun—"

"Lucie," Tessa cut in with a gently voice, approaching her children, foster children and the Carstairs siblings. "Cordelia and her family have come to London so that you and Cordelia can train together, It will be a great deal of work and responsibility."

Ainsley slightly raised her eyebrow when Cordelia glanced down at her shoes. 

She'd become very good at reading people. She'd picked up on noticing things others might not, a hand shaking nervously, shoulders stiffening tensely. She learned that that was how you made sure two girls didn't lock you in a closet for hours.

So when Cordelia grew very interested in the pavement lining the street, Ainsley's interest couldn't help getting peeked. Something in Tessa's statement had irked the redhead and the half-Korean couldn't help but think it might have to do with the absence of Elias Carstairs.

"Well, you must remember being sixteen yourself, Mrs. Herondale," said Sona Carstairs, just appearing out of thin air somehow. Ainsley seriously had to start paying attention to what happened around her. "Young girls adore dances and dresses. I certainly did when I was their age, and I imagine you did as well."

Tessa, who -let's be honest- still looked 16, arched her eyebrows. "I do recall attending a vampire frolic once. And some sort of party at Benedict Lightwood's house, before he got demon pox and turned into a worm, of course—"

"Mother!" Lucie looked appalled.

"Well, he did turn into a worm," James pointed out. 

Ainsley hugged his arm as she smiled at Lucie. "I'd say more of a giant, vicious demon serpent. It was honestly the most interesting part of history class. I mean, Matthew payed attention."

Lucie hit her foster sister's arm. "Traitor." Ainsley just grinned, leaning down to press a kiss on her temple with her arms still wrapped around James'. 

They honestly acted like sisters. Her and Lucie had always been close. The youngest Herondale had immediately taken to Ainsley as the older sister she never had. Ainsley was always the one she went to for advice or the one who's room she sneaked into when she couldn't sleep.

Tessa smiled down at them. It always made her happy to see that Marcus and Ainsley loved James and Lucie as much as they loved each other. 

The warlock was luckily saved by the arrival of the removers' vans carrying the Carstairs' belongings. "Please thank Cecily Lightwood for me, for the loan of her domestic help," Cordelia's mother was saying to Tessa.

"Oh, indeed! They will come on Tuesdays and Thursdays to do the rough, until you can find suitable servants of your own," Tessa replied.

"Mama!" Cordelia exclaimed. "You brought the piano?" 

James and Ainsley both craned their heads in complete sync and saw that the removers were indeed carrying a piano.

"I like a bit of music about." Sona shrugged, her hand impatiently gesturing the workmen. "Cordelia, it's going to be messy and noisy. Perhaps if you and Lucie would go take a turn about the neighborhood? And Alastair, you stay here and help direct the servants."

Cordelia and Lucie smiled at each other while Alastair looked both annoyed and smug. Annoyed that he had to stay and smug that he was tasked with an important job.

"I'll stay and help." Marcus offered, already moving to help the men carry things into the house.

Tessa placed a hand on his shoulder as he passed by her, looking amused. "James, Ainsley," The two older teenagers turned their heads in synch again, "go with the girls. Perhaps Kensington Gardens? It's a short walk and a lovely day."

Ever since they had come to live at the London Institute, Tessa -and Will for that matter- never treated the Ashwoods any different from their own children. They were showered with as much love and affection as Lucie and James. They were scolded just the same as Lucie and James. They were treated as though they too were children of the house. Because to Will and Tessa they were. To them, Ainsley and Marcus were just as much their children as Lucie and James.

"Kensington Gardens does seem safe," James said his tone grave which earned him a slight chuckle from Ainsley.

Lucie rolled her eyes and seized Cordelia's hand. "Come along, then," she said, and pulled her down the steps and onto the pavement.

Ainsley waved to her brother and Tessa as James pulled her along. Marcus winked and went back to help the workers while Tessa fondly smiled at her.

It was a little odd to Ainsley at the beginning that Tessa looked much closer to her age then she did Will's. It honestly still was at times but it wasn't as if Tessa had chosen this, to be born a warlock, an immortal being.

She had been only sixteen when she was launched into the Shadow World head first and met Ainsley's mother, Ji-a Kim.  
The two women had become so close after that and had grown into stronger, more intelligent and -despite all the pain and sorrow- kinder versions of theirselves, into good and exemplary women and both finding love along the way.  
It struck Ainsley sometimes that her family, her parents and all her uncles and aunts, Will and Tessa, Gabriel and Cecily, Sophie and Gideon, Charlotte and Henry, they hadn't been that much older or younger then her when they'd fought in the Clockwork War. That they were proclaimed heroes and that their name was written down in History books.

She would reach that stage someday. Someday they would write down her name in History books.

But for now she got dragged by James -who's legs were much longer then her own- as he marched forward to catch up to his sister who was speedily pulling her best friend with her, almost the same way James pulled Ainsley. "There's no need to bolt, Lucie," he teased. "Mother isn't going to haul you back and demand that you drag a piano into the house."

As they caught up to the girls, the half-Korean girl playfully hit James' arm with a glare. He grinned down at her before extending his smile to Cordelia who watched the pair interact with such ease and care.

Lucie sent her brother an unamused look before she happily squeezed turned to Cordelia, a skip in her step. "I'm so happy you're here," she declared. "I never thought it would really happen."

"Why not?" said James. "The Law demands you train together before you can become parabatai, and besides, Father adores Daisy, and he does make the rules...."

"Jamie leave her alone." Ainsley smiled over to her foster brother with a look of amused exasperation. "Let her be excited about her best friend being here."

"And your father adores any Carstairs," Cordelia pointed out about James' last statement. "I'm not sure it's to my particular credit. He may even like Alastair."

"Marcus certainly does." Ainsley shrugged. "He and Uncle Will are quite alike in that sense."

"I think they have convinced themselves Alastair has hidden depths," joked James.

"So does quicksand," mumbled Cordelia.

James and Ainsley both laughed, not expecting that.

"That's quite enough," said Lucie, reaching over to smack James on the shoulder with a gloved hand. She didn't manage to get Ainsley since the girl had quickly ducked behind James and was peering at the younger girl over his shoulder. "Daisy is my friend, and you two are monopolizing her. Do go off somewhere else."

At that the Ashwood girl let out an offended gasp. "And here I thought you loved us." She placed a hand on her heart.

James chuckled fondly as Lucie whined. "Annie!"

The older girl just smiled at her, reaching forward to fix a loose strand that had fallen out of Lucie's hat. "I'm joking Lu." The younger girl smiled up at her. "You have every right to want alone time with your best friend."

"We will walk ten paces behind you like train-bearers," Declared James, his arm looped with Ainsley's as she returned back to his side. "But we must keep you within sight, otherwise Mother will kill us, and then we will miss tomorrow's ball and Matthew will kill us, and we will be dead twice."

Ainsley rolled her eyes at his words but didn't disagree. They both fell back as they'd promised. A content sigh left Ainsley's lips as she looked around, hugging James' arm towards her.

"Jamie?" The boy hummed, signaling her to continue. "Are you alright?"

James sent the girl a confused smile. "Of course I'm alright Annie. Why do you ask?"

"Just checking on you." You've been acting odd since Thomas mentioned Grace the other day. You're distant. James please talk to me about what's troubling you.

James smiled down at his foster sister, obviously unable to hear her thoughts. "I'm quite alright. There's no need to worry about me."

"Oh come on James." Ainsley nudged his shoulder. "I always worry about you. And Marcus. And Lucie. And the boys. And everyone else in our huge family."

The boy smiled down at her fondly before repeating. "I'm alright Annie."

"Good." They continued to walk in silence for a bit. "How do you feel about us seeing a demon the other day?" She sent him a warning look and raised her finger as a scolding mother might. "And do not give me your 'No demons in London isn't bad' speech. I've heard it a thousand times before and don't believe it one bit."

James watched her trough his gold eyes. "You really won't let this go will you?" When he earned a shake of the head from the girl he sighed. "I will admit that I find quite unsettling. As if some thing were-"

"About to happen? I feel that way too."

"Have you found anything to explain why this is happening in your research?"

Ainsley shrugged. "The best explanation I can figure is that someone or something put up wards or something of the likes to keep demons out of London. As if they want us to be unprepared."

James looked ahead before sighing. "But we're fine for now. Everyone is safe, everyone is fine. We have the ball tomorrow."

"I don't want to go to the ball tomorrow." Those words left the girl's lips the second James finished talking, her head thrown back in an unhappy groan.

"Why not?"

Ainsley turned her head to look at James with the most deadpan look she could muster. "While you may have grown to appreciate the company of others, I still remain hateful towards it."

"Ainsley, tomorrow isn't about you. It's to welcome the Carstairs family to London."

"It's the only reason I'm going."

Whenever there was a ball, Ainsley was in the habit of pulling a disappearing act after dancing only for the first couple of dances. She would find her way to the games room Tessa had created for the youngsters and wait there until James, Marcus or Lucie came to get her.

But she was fully aware that she couldn't bail on the ball tomorrow. She couldn't do that to Lucie and Cordelia. She'd have to muster up her strength and spend the whole evening there. In the same room as the London Enclave and all the stuck up parlour girls like Rosamund Wentworth and Catherine Townsend who she could bring herself to care less about.

Ainsley sighed. She then turned back to her foster brother. "Do you know what you're wearing to the ball tomorrow? Matthew will throw a fit if it's not to his satisfaction."

James smiled a secret smile to which Ainsley tilted her head, confused. Before she could question it though, James began talking. "I've picked something out. What about you? Do you have dress?"

The girl begrudgingly admitted, "I was going to wear a blue one but Anna sent me another. I haven't had a chance to look at it yet but the note that came with it says I have to wear it." A small and playful smile stretched on her lips. "I half want to wear something else to see how she'll react."

"Let me now if you do that." James nodded with amusement in his golden eyes. "So I can start running in the other direction."

Ainsley gaped at him with fake offense. She wrenched her arm out of his and sped up walking away. It didn't take long for James' long legs to catch up to her again as he took her hand. She let him but didn't look at him. "I'm sorry Ainsley. I promise I'll stay be your side no matter what you do." His voice was sweet and mocking. When the girl didn't answer he took a book out of his pocket. "Please forgive me Annie. I'll read to you."

At that the girl whined. She couldn't let that offer pass by. "Fine." He smiled as she threw her head back dramatically. "I forgive you." They both smiled at each other fondly, with a love only siblings could gaze upon the other with. A mix of exasperation and joy at their company.

They linked their arms together again, Ainsley making sure that James didn't walk into a tree or into any children playing as he read to her in his soft and soothing voice.

They didn't know what was waiting for them but decided to enjoy this moment. But neither was aware of much much they'd miss the normalcy of their lives in a couple days.

.

PAST DAYS  
Seoul Institute, 1893

MARCUS AND AINSLEY ASHWOOD WERE always close.

When he had seen Ainsley for the first time, Marcus had been two. Under the watchful gaze of his parents Marcus had peered at his little sister's sleeping face. "She's so tiny." The two year old had said.

Both Scott and Ji-a had chuckled at that. Marcus kept staring a small gasp leaving his lips as she opened her big black eyes. Ainsley lifted her arms up a little, letting her brother see her chubby little hands. When she grabbed his out-stretched finger and smiled a toothless smile at him, Marcus fell in love for the first time.  
From that day he swore to protect her with his life. No harm would come to this little girl as long as he was there.

But life doesn't always allow that. 

Seven years later, the two siblings were training in the Seoul Institute. It was no surprise to anyone, they often trained together. Marcus always tried to pass down his knowledge to Ainsley so that she might be able to protect herself.  
Ainsley happily giggled throwing her hands up victoriously as Marcus groaned from where he was laying on the ground.

"Well down, little sister." He spoke in Korean, making no move to get up.

Ainsley proudly grinned. She got down and laid on the ground next to him, her small head resting on her brother's outstretched arm.

"Oppa." Marcus turned look at her as the girl's wide black eyes looked up at him hopefully. "Do you think I'll be a good Shadowhunter?"

"You'll be the best Shadowhunter in the world, He-joo." He said, using his sister's Korean name. That made the girl beam widely.

"Really?"

"Really."

He leaned over and kissed her forehead lovingly. They both chuckled. But the moment was cut short as the door opened. The siblings both sat up, expecting to see their parents. But they were left slightly confused when they were met with the sight of their Aunt Tessa entering instead.

Ainsley -though confused- got to her feet and pattered over to the warlock. "Aunt Tessa!" She beamed hugging around the woman's waist.

Tessa looked down at the girl with a sad but loving smile as she hugged her back. Marcus, who was a little more mature then his younger sister, approached them. He also hugged his aunt but sent her a confused look as he stepped away.

"What are you doing here?"

Tessa only looked down. She cleared her throat and rested her arms around both children's shoulders as she started leading them out of the training room. "Let's go talk in the living room with Uncle Will."

.

WILL HERONDALE AND SCOTT ASHWOOD had been close when they were growing up. Even when Will was deliberately cruel to try to get people to hate him because he was scared that they would die if they came to love him, Scott didn't allow the boy to push him away.   
He was Will's brother though they didn't have a rune to show it. Scott Ashwood had been Will Herondale and Jem Carstairs' best friend. 

That was why Will and his wife Tessa found themselves at the Seoul Institute on that dreadful winter night. He and Tessa had tried to be as kind and gentle as possible when telling Marcus and Ainsley that their parents weren't coming back, that they had died. 

Ainsley had left the room, claiming she needed air. Tessa had squeezed her husband's hand tightly before letting go to chase after the girl. That left Will alone with Marcus who was blankly staring of into the fire. 

Will came and sat down next to him. They didn't say anything. The man didn't want to press Marcus. He just wanted to let him know that he was there. "You know I always promised myself I'd never let anything hurt Ainsley?" Will looked over at the young boy. His black eyes were reflecting the flames, shining with unshed tears. "But how am I supposed to protect her from this? How am I supposed to protect her from loss?"

Will sadly smiled at the boy. "You can't. You can just be there for her. Let her know that you are there for her and that you love her. No matter what."

Marcus glanced over at the man with glossy eyes. "I'm sorry." He said. "I lost my parents but you also lost your friends."

Will let out a sad chuckle as he gazed at the young boy. Only Scott's son could be worried about Will's feelings at the lose of his own parents. "You are so much like your father."

Marcus smiled a little before turning back to look at the fire. "What's going to happen to us?"

"Well," Will begun, " your aunt Tessa and I were wondering if maybe... you and Ainsley might want to come and live with us. In London."

"Really?" Marcus looked at Will who nodded.

"We thought we would ask you if that's what you want. If you don't we underst-"

"No." Marcus cut Will off. "Appa always talked about London. It would be nice to see the place he grew up."

He hopefully looked up at Will. The man smiled down at him, nodding. "Okay."

.

A/N  
Your wishes are my command -though I doubt anyone actually wished for this 😅 But here's a chapter!   
I have now officially finished the first chapter of Chain of Gold. Ainsley and James, and Ainsley and Lucie, and Ainsley and Marcus. Just Ainsley with her siblings really.   
Urgh the chapter was practically just fluffy cute scenes about Ainsley Ashwood and her relationships with her siblings. It was so wholesome to write. I hope you like it 😉

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	4. III.

.

ASHES OF ROSES

Though one were fair as roses,  
His beauty clouds and closes;  
And well though love reposes,  
In the end it is not well.

—Algernon Charles Swinburne, "The Garden of Proserpine"

.

AINSLEY HAD TO ADMIT THAT the ballroom looked wonderful. Tessa had really outdone herself for this ball.

Though Ainsley normally hated this kind of event, she did find that they did have a certain appeal to them. Not that she would ever admit that out loud though.

Will had been the first person she danced with. 

He always was. When she'd asked why, why Will always insisted in having one dance with her but none with Lucie, his actual daughter, the man had only smiled and said he was keeping a promise. 

He explained that while they were growing up, Scott always said if he ever had a daughter, he wanted to be her first dance of the evening at balls until she got married. He promised that if anything ever happened to Scott, he'd do it instead.

And Will kept his word. 

At the end of the song, he'd smiled down at Ainsley, a glint of fatherly pride in his eyes before swooping down and kissing her forehead.

James had danced with her after Will had left to find his wife. The foster siblings had laughed together as they quietly judged everyone's attire. But he had left her to go and find Matthew. 

Ainsley had tried to find Thomas and Christopher but her search hadn't borne any fruit, or in this case results -since she had stopped by the refreshments table and gotten a small fruit tart. 

That lead her to where she was standing alone, leaning against a wall as her black eyes watched the crowd. 

"Now that dress is not made for you to just be standing around." A rich voice drawled.

Ainsley felt her lips tug upwards as she turned her head and saw Anna Lightwood. 

Anna was Christopher's older sister. She was gorgeously dressed in fitted trousers and a pin-striped shirt, her short dark hair looking flawless and her Herondale blue eyes watching Ainsley closely.

"Anna." Ainsley greeted. Anna smiled back but still raised her eyebrows, awaiting an explanation as to why the half-Korean girl was alone in a corner and not swaying on the dance floor in the arms of a partner. Ainsley sighed. "I am standing around because nobody seems to want to dance with me."

It was a passable lie. 

The real reason Ainsley wasn't dancing because no one wanted to dance with her. Because she kept refusing when anyone asked.

"That's impossible." Anna refused. "You're far too pretty." Ainsley blushed profusely and ducked her head down to hide her tomato-red face. "Believe me if you step out into the light a little, all the boys will be falling at your feet begging you to dance. Especially Matthew."

At that the girl furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "What does that have to with anything? Why does it matter whether Matthew want to dance with me or not?"

Anna smiled in the same way the Cheshire Cat might before looking out into the crowd. "Where is Matthew?" She wondered.

"Jamie left to find him a couple minutes ago." Ainsley shrugged.

"Jamie left to find who a couple minutes ago?" A familiar voice asked, making both girls smile over at the young man approaching. "Hello ladies."

"Marcus." Anna smiled at her friend. She let her eyes inspect his attire and nodding in approval. "I have to say, midnight blue is definitely your color. And to answer your question, he's looking for Matthew."

"I'm pretty sure I saw Math head to the games room earlier."

Anna nodded. "Well, why don't you dance with your sister while I go and drag them back here?"

Ainsley watched as they payed her absolutely no mind with a raised eyebrow. Marcus nodded. "Deal." He turned to Ainsley with a kind and loving smile as he held out his hand. "Dear sister."

The girl rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless as she dropped her hand into her brother's and let him drag her out to the dance floor. When they reached a free spot, Marcus placed a hand on the younger girl's waist as she rested hers on his shoulder, their other hand clasped tightly in the other.

"You look beautiful, gongjunim." Marcus complimented in Korean.

Princess. He often called her that. To him she'd always been a little princess.

Ainsley just blushed again averting her gaze downward. "Oppa." She whined cutely.

Marcus just beamed. "So, how's you're evening been for now?"

"It's be fine." The Korean easily slipping out of her lips. "I've danced with Uncle Will and James. And now I'm dancing with you."

"No one else?" Ainsley shook her head, her brown ringlets flying around her a little. "Why not?"

"Nobody else asked me." Another lie. It was better to let him believe that then to admit the she flat out refused the second any boy approached. Upon seeing her brother's frown, the girl sent him a look. "Oppa, it's alright. I don't care. You know I hate balls anyways."

He couldn't deny that last fact. Even though she'd gotten better over the years, Ainsley still wasn't very big on interacting with people she wasn't close with. If they came and talked to her, she would maintain a polite conversation but she would only go and strike up conversation if it was someone she knew well or wanted to get to know -though that last one practically never happened.

Marcus finally sighed, giving into the fact that if Ainsley didn't mind, he shouldn't worry himself over it. They danced a little longer, laughing and talking in Korean. As the song ended, Marcus dragged his sister with him until they were stood in front of a familiar brunette. 

"Barbara." Marcus smiled, slight mockery in his tone as he bowed. Ainsley shook her head in amusement and just hugged her parabatai's sister instead.

"Oh, Annie. You look lovely." Barbara complimented with a wide smile.

Ainsley blushed brightly anew as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Thank you. So do you."

Barbara was always so kind. 

She held her elbow out to Ainsley who locked her own with the older girl's. They walked over to Barbara's parents, Sophie and Gideon Lightwood, Marcus trailing behind them. 

Ainsley had always liked Aunt Sophie and Uncle Gideon. They were so kind and loving. They had been so happy and welcoming when Ainsley and Thomas had decided to become parabatai.  
They had also known her parents, telling Ainsley and Marcus about how kind and amazing they were, and spoiling them whenever the option arose. 

"Hello." The Ashwoods greeted with smiles that had each gotten from one of their parents.

Sophie and Gideon both lovingly beamed down at them. They fell into easy conversation, all five of them until they were joined by Tessa -who looked absolutely lovely in her rose dress- and the Carstairs family.

Ainsley smiled over at Cordelia warmly, the younger girl shyly smiling back. 

She was nervous. Ainsley could tell, though others might not be able to. Though, if she were forced to wear the pastel nightmare that Cordelia was looking very uncomfortable in, she would most certainly be nervous too. 

The Ashwood girl wanted to get to know this new girl. Maybe it was because she wanted to make sure Cordelia was good enough to be parabatai with Lucie or something else entirely. There was something about the half-Persian girl that drew her in. She was a mystery, and as mentioned earlier, Ainsley couldn't resist a mystery. 

Sona Carstairs fell immediately into conversation with Barbara's parents while Marcus and Alastair talked about something else on the side, though the boys both stay close to each of their respective sister. Cordelia had her gaze fixed on Barbara and Ainsley. She looked as though she wanted to say something but decided against it. She looked out at the dance floor, a smile growing on her face.

"Who's the boy dancing with Lucie?" Cordelia asked. Both brunette girls turned their heads to follow her gaze, easily spotting Lucie in her blue dress.

So that's where Thomas was. Ainsley thought as she heard a kind laugh bubble out of Barbara's lips. "That's my brother, Thomas," The older girl said. "And not tripping over his own feet, for a change!" 

That last comment earned a sweet chuckle from Ainsley. "He has been doing that an awful lot since returning from Spain." She commented.

She however was surprised when she heard Alastair pause in his conversation, and call, "Charles!" in a pleased voice.

All eyes turned to him as he smoothed down the front of his waistcoat. "If you'll excuse me, I must go pay my respects. We haven't seen each other in an age." Before anything could be said, he'd already vanished between the tables.

Marcus' mouth hung open in shock, turning slightly to stare after his best friend. "Charles?" He said turning back to face the group. "He chose Charles Buford Fairchild over me?" He turned to Barbara, his face holding fake insecurity. "Babs, you think I am better company then Charles right?"

"I think you are the best company there this." She smiled warmly.

The adults chuckled a little at his antics before Cordelia's mother sighed. "Boys," she said. "So vexing."

Sophie smiled at Marcus. "Marcus definitely could been." That earned a hum from Tessa and a look of joking offense from Marcus, one to which she winked. Sophie then smiled at her daughter. "Girls have their moments too," she observed. "You should have seen Barbara and her sister, Eugenia, when they were children. Absolute horrors!" 

Barbara laughed as her mother's gaze moved over to Ainsley, an affectionate yet sad smile making its way onto her face, the silvery scar slightly glistening in the light. "Though, I never remember Ainsley being much trouble."

"Lies!" Marcus gasped in amusement.

Ainsley teasingly smirked at her brother. "Oppa." She stated calmly, as if she were talking about a business deal. "We all know Aunt Sophie and Uncle Gideon love me more. You have to get over it."

"That's not true." he denied. "Right, Aunt Sophie?"

The woman looked away with pursed lips as Gideon ducked his head down to hide his smile. Marcus let out a gasp in mock offense yet again, his hand placed over his heart. "Betrayed." He turned back to Barbara who grinned, looking at him with a single sculpted eyebrow raised. "It seems that you are the only one who loves me here Barbara."

Barbara played along, sympathetically nodding. "It seems so. Tell me, Marcus. What can I do to lighten your broken heart?"

"Do me the honor of accompanying me for a dance?" He raised his eyebrow with a shameless grin.

The girl smiled at him, with a nod. She gently squeezed Ainsley hand before unlocking their arms and taking Marcus' outstretched one. Both young adults waved to their family and the two Carstairs women, moving away, leaving their family to shake their heads with a smile.

Barbara and Marcus had always been close. From the second they met they'd shared a close and kind friendship. When Oliver Hayward wanted to start courting Barbara, he made sure to ask Marcus for his approval, knowing how much it would mean to Barbara. Sophie and Gideon always grinned, finding it ironic that their own children were practically as close with Ji-a and Scott Ashwood's children as they had been to Scott and Ji-a while growing up. 

Everyone was honestly surprised that they hadn't become parabatai with the type of rapport they shared.

"May I stay with you?" Ainsley asked Tessa who she knew was introducing Cordelia and Sona to the Enclave. She didn't want to stay alone and Cordelia seemed a little awkward. She saw the grateful look the redhead sent her before they both turned to the adults, waiting for their reply.

Tessa simply smiled at the young girl. "Of course you may Annie."

The teenager grinned, placing a kiss on both her Uncle Gideon and Aunt Sophie's cheek before locking arms with Cordelia. As Tessa walked in front of them, the half-Korean girl turned to Sona. "I hope you don't mind me coming along, Mrs. Carstairs." She smiled bashfully. "I didn't want to be alone and thought I might maybe keep Cordelia company."

Sona airily waved a hand. "It isn't a problem dear." She smiled at the young girl.

Ainsley smiled back widely. 

She walked with the Carstairs women as Tessa lead them to where three more members of the large family to which she belonged were situated.

The girl saw her Uncle Will leaning back against the edge of a table, his broad arms crossed over his chest. Next to his was a woman who was unmistakably his sister with the same sparkling blue eyes and dark hair that matched the half-Korean's obsidian black irises. And though she wasn't a warlock like her sister-in-law, Cecily Lightwood looked just as young as Tessa. Her husband, Gabriel was the first to notice their arrival, one of his green eyes winking at Ainsley making her smile at him.

That made Will look over. A soft look took over his face as it always did at the sight of Tessa. His blue eyes then flicker to Cordelia, who's arm stiffened a little under Ainsley's hold. The brunette took her hand and squeezed it in comfort, trying to let the younger girl know she was there for her if she needed it.

"Cordelia Carstairs," Will said, after greeting Sona and sending his ward a fond smile. "How pretty you've become."

Ainsley chuckled a little when Cordelia beamed. 

"I hear you have come to London to be parabatai with our Lucie," Ainsley's Aunt Cecily said. "I am pleased—it is high time more girls became parabatai. I was so happy when Annie here," she sent the girl a smile. "Became parabatai with Thomas. It has been a state monopolized by men for far too long."

"Well, the first parabatai were male," Will pointed out, in a way that only an older sibling could. His tone both teasing and filled knowledge. A tone Ainsley had often heard Uncle Will use around her Aunt Cecily, and every other older sibling around their younger sibling, including Marcus and herself. She found it insufferable and couldn't help but wonder if Aunt Cecily did too.

"Times are changing, Will," said Cecily brightening her smile. "It's the modern age. We have electric lights, motorcars..."

"Mundanes have electric lights," said Will. "We have witchlight."

"And motorcars are a fad," Added Gabriel. "They won't last."

Ainsley looked at her Uncle amused. "You never know Uncle Gabriel." She said. "Maybe motorcars are humanity's future."

The adults turned to Ainsley, the brown haired man raising an eyebrow. "I guess we'll see won't we?" He smiles down at her fondly. 

Their conversation was saved from continuing when Lucie bound over, abandoning poor Thomas on the dance floor. Ainsley chuckled a little as he shrugged and went to the refreshments table. She let go of Cordelia so that the girl might be free to return Lucie's embrace.

The Ashwood girl had to bit her lower lip from exploding in laughter over her foster sister's face at the sight of the pastel horror in which Cordelia was clad in. It was definitely different from how well her blue lace dress complimented her and her eyes.

The girl turned to Sona and Tessa with a smile only a Herondale could manage and asked, "May Annie and I take Cordelia to meet the other girls?"

"Of course." Sona looked pleased. 

Lucie took Cordelia's and Ainsley's hands, the latter raising a hand in farewell to Sona and her family before turning her attention back front to Lucie.

Cordelia turned to the half-Korean, a look of thanks lighting up her face. "Thank you so much for staying with me. If it weren't for you, I probably would have been so awkward."

"It was no trouble." Ainsley smiled warmly. "Besides, you needed someone to take the attention of the God awful dress. I apologize but while you are quite beautiful the dress is just..."

"A disaster?" Lucie and Cordelia suggested, sensing Ainsley's lack of words.

"I was going to say a 'poofy nightmare', but disaster works."

The three of them chuckled at that. But the smile on Ainsley face was quick to dull when she caught sight of where Lucie was leading them.

"Oh bloody hell." She cursed under her breath, seeing all the girls at the refreshments table. Their corsets tied tight enough to cut of one's blood supply, their frames as straight as boards to try and look as pretty as possible, practically begging a boy to come and whisk them away. All girls that Ainsley hated, save for Ariadne Bridgestock, the Inquisitor's kind and lovely-looking adoptive daughter who was looking beautiful in her wine-colored gown.   
The older brunette's hand had left Lucie's as she stood next to her and Cordelia, her arms securely over her chest and her mouth set in a thin line.

"What a pretty dress," Ariadne gushed to Cordelia. "I believe that's the shade they call 'Ashes of Roses.' Very popular in Paris."

"Oh, yes," Cordelia said eagerly. The half-Korean girl barely managed to keep in her wince at how eager Cordelia sounded. "I did get this dress in Paris, as a matter of fact. On Rue de la Paix. Jeanne Paquin made it herself."

She however made no attempt whatsoever to hide her scowl when she heard Rosamund say. "How fortunate you are. Most of us here in the poky little London Enclave rarely get to travel abroad. You must think us so dull."

"She didn't mean it like that and you know it." Ainsley narrowed her black eyes.

She saw Cordelia practically flinch at her frigid tone. It was understandable. The half-Persian wasn't aware of Ainsley's hate for these girls or how her moods could change like the wind.

One second she was an angel with a beaming smile and the next a sharp tongued demon from the depths of Hell. Ainsley Ashwood was like a rose, pretty and kind to look at but harsh and prickly to touch if you didn't know how to properly treat or handle her.   
At times it was as if she had built up a fortress around herself and even her family was barely allowed through the door that was slightly ajar, never open.

"Ainsley." Rosemund grit her teeth. "Finally decided to join us instead of the boys you are always with, I see."

"Oh, I'm here for Cordelia. Not you."

Sensing that a fight might be brewing, a fight her best friend had no way of winning, Catherine cut in. "My mother has always said Shadowhunters aren't meant to have much of an interest in fashion. She says it's mundane."

"Since you've spoken of Matthew's clothes admiringly so often," said Ariadne dryly, "should we assume that rule is only for girls?"

"Ariadne, really—" Rosamund began, and broke off with a laugh. "Speak of the devils," She said. "Look who's just come in."

Ainsley turned her head to what she was looking at and spotted the ballroom doors opening. And who entered next made her rigid posture soften.

Her eyes focused on Matthew first, the boy looking so akin to an Angel that there was no doubt in her mind that he descended from one. His blonde hair was a halo of bronze under the light of the ballroom, setting off against his dove gray suit and pale green carnation resting in his buttonhole where it always was. Ainsley couldn't help the smile that grew on her lips at the sight of him.

She was never able to deny the boy's beauty. Ever since she first saw him at the Academy, his tall and slender frame towering over her, and his gold hair looking like the sun as his forest green eyes watched her with intrigue and surprise, she had found him handsome. 

You're more beautiful then I expected. The first words he had spoken to her.

Ainsley could hear them whispering in her ears as she watched him now, her stomach flapping with butterflies.

That was when she blinked. This was Matthew. One of her best friends. He wasn't supposed to make her feel butterflies in her stomach, or feel as though she wouldn't be able to breathe again until she was with him, in his strong arms.

She shook her head, moving her eyes to spot a smiling James next to him. He was all black and white. Though it was not a bad thing. After all, you don't fix what isn't broken.

"They are so handsome," Catherine almost sounded pained when she said that. "Don't you think so, Ariadne?"

"Oh—yes," Ariadne squeaked with haste. "I suppose."

"She only has eyes for Charles," said Rosamund. 

All the others -save Lucie and Cordelia- began giggling like schoolgirls when Ariadne blushed. Ainsley however watched with raised eyebrows, her mind racing to figure out what Ariadne saw in Matthew's -in her very unbiased (note the sarcasm) opinion- very dull and annoying older brother. 

Lucie alone seemed to not understand the hype of James and Matthew's arrival and what it meant for the girls. "They're just boys," she deadpanned.

A soft smile broke onto Ainsley's face. "Never grow up Lucie." She spoke so quietly that only the Herondale heard her, tilting her head in confusion.

She never got a chance to question the older girl for Catherine seemed incapable of containing her emotions and and exclaimed, "James is your brother, you cannot be objective, Lucie! He is gorgeous."

And though Ainsley hated her, she had no way of denying it. James was a handsome boy. He always had been, even when they were younger and as years went by he was growing into his features and looking more and more like his father everyday. Her favorite feature of his, were his eyes that looked like molten gold, almost the same shade as Matthew's hair on a sunny day.

Why did her thoughts keep drifting to Matthew? 

It was starting to confuse the girl, and the Ashwood hated being confused.

She noticed that James and Matthew had stopped towards where Barbara and Marcus were joined by Oliver Hayward -Barbara's suitor- all of them laughing. James had his arm swung over Matthew's shoulder and looked so at ease and natural.

Ainsley's heart couldn't help but swell with pride at how far this young man had come from the shy boy who stayed in his corner with his nose buried in a book. 

"Matthew isn't bad-looking either," commented Rosamund. For some reason the half-Korean felt her chest burn uncomfortably and she didn't like it. "But so scandalous."

"Indeed," Catherine added, eyes sparkling. "You must be careful of him, Miss Carstairs. He has a reputation."

"Do watch yourself Townsend." Ainsley mused. She was rocking on her heels, her obsidian eyes examining the marble tile of the floor. To anyone she would have looked nonchalant but all the girls could hear the low and cold tone in her voice while her arms stiffened over her chest. "You and I both know that I'm not above punching you right here."

Catherine did know that. In fact everyone was aware of how fiercely Ainsley felt about protecting her boys. One bad word about them in front of her and you were lucky to still be alive by the time she was done with you.   
At first people just thought her threats were empty and just all a play to intimidate people. 

Until Ainsley broke Albert Breakspear's nose. 

"We should guess who James will ask to dance first," spoke someone in the back, a girly high-pitched voice that Ainsley couldn't even be bothered to identify. "Surely you, Rosamund; you are looking so lovely tonight. Who could resist you?"

"I could name a few." Rosamund glared at Ainsley who sent her yet another biting smile. "And James is on that list."

"You know," drawled Lucie. "When he was six, he threw up in his own shoe."

The girls all made a point to ignore Lucie while Ainsley had to bit her lip to repress her smirk and sent Lucie a small wink. 

As the music started again, boys started asking girls to dance; Rosamund's brother asking a fair-haired girl, Charles leaving Alastair to come and take Ariadne. Having left Barbara and Oliver to join the floor, Marcus appeared and grinned down at Lucie, jokingly asking if she might be able to power through a dance with an 'old man' such as himself. The brunette had rolled her eyes but taken her foster brother's outstretched hand with a smile and let him drag her away leaving both Ainsley and Cordelia. Adults started filling the floor as well, such as Will and Tessa, Gabriel and Cecily, Gideon and Sophie, all wrapped up in their spouses arms with tender and loving glances at each other.

It wasn't long before Matthew was before the girls, a playful smile on his face as he bowed slightly to Ainsley. "Might you do me the honor of joining me for a dance, Leo?"

Ainsley smiled back. "Always."

After a last glare -one that read as clear as day she didn't have a care in the world about Matthew's reputation- to the girls, amusement in her eyes when she saw Rosamund and Catherine flapping their mouths open and close like fishes, she took the boy's hand and let him whisk her away.

.

"I LOVE YOU, I LOVE you, I love you." Ainsley practically chanted when they were out of the other girls' earshot. "I swear one more second and I would have pounced on Rosamund."

Matthew sent her an amused look. "Well, though I am glad a stopped potential bloodshed, I will admit that my motivations for asking you to dance were purely selfish."

"So, you're saying that you didn't ask me to dance because of my unbelievable dancing skills?" The girl teased.

"No." Matthew chuckled, bringing the girl in front of him when they reached a free spot on the dance floor. "Though they are a plus," He winked. "I didn't want to have to deal with one of the others fawning over my handsomeness."

"Who said you were handsome?"

The blonde smirked at her, pulling her close to him by her waist, a soft gasp leaving her lips. "You think I'm handsome. Admit it."

"In your dreams." Ainsley challenged, hoping to keep the shake out of her voice as she took his hand and her own arm found his waist.

His green eyes flashed with something unreadable but it was gone so quickly and replaced by a wide smile that Ainsley though she might have imagined it. The music played a waltz, the most 'scandalous' dance there. 

"You're tense." Matthew mused.

"I don't like the waltz." The half-Korean grumbled. "Nobody likes the waltz, not even you. Only the adults."

Her gaze turned to Will and Tessa who were lovingly looking at each other as they swayed in each other's arms.

The blonde boy chuckled a little. "Just try to relax a bit." He pulled her even more towards him.

Goosebumps erupted over Ainsley's skin, her chest brushing against his. From this close, she could feel that heat radiating off of him and hope that he couldn't feel her hammering heart. Matthew's head ducked down, his forehead hovering above her own as they stared into each other's eyes.

Ainsley always managed to get lost in to forest green eyes, shining with so much mischief and fondness and.... something. Something no one had ever looked at her with before. Something she didn't have the first idea how to identify.

Her shoulders relaxed as a soft breath left her lips. Dancing with Matthew made time stop. It made everyone on the face of the Earth disappear. No one other then the two of them existed anymore. Just Ainsley and Matthew, spinning in the wind and the void of space.

What was this boy doing to her?

He moved his mouth to her ear, his lips brushing over the shell of her ear. "You look beautiful, Leo."

Ainsley's eyes involuntarily closed at the feeling. There was something quite intimate about feeling Matthew's lips against her ear.

"Liar." She whispered.

"Why would I lie?"

Why would he lie? Ainsley's dress wasn't something she would have picked for herself but that was the point of having an Anna Lightwood handy. To get you clothes you wouldn't buy yourself but falling in love with them the second you tried them on.

The dress Anna had gotten her was a floor length lavender blue gown made of chiffon. The off-shoulder sleeves rested just below her shoulders before sloping down to her chest, stopping right before revealing her breasts. The fabric of the waist, bust and sleeves was decorated with sliver threads and small silk flowers that clung to her frame. Anna also always made a point to get her dresses that were to tight around the waist to wear a petticoat underneath, just her undergarments, chemise, corset and a bustle.

"Because you want me to admit that I find you handsome." Ainsley said, quickly adding, "Which I don't."

"Now who's lying?" Matthew smirked as he looked down at her. Ainsley playfully narrowed her eyes at him. She would die before admitting she found the boy handsome out loud. 

Dove gray and lavender blue meddled together on the dance floor looking as cold, shimmering and lovely as a snowstorm that no one might have been able to imagine the heat that was enclosed in the middle. Warmth that washed over both teenagers who looked at each other as if the other was the most precious thing in the world.

As they danced, a strand of Ainsley's brown hair escaped from it's half-up half-down braid. Matthew's long and nimble fingers gently grazed her cheek as he pushed out of her face and out of the black eyes that always swallowed his soul, like black holes. His calloused hand then rested on the girl's cheek as he looked enchanted, his own eyes resembling Brocelind Forest on a sunny day of summer.

"Math." The girl murmured. Matthew opened his mouth to say something but was cut of when they heard a gasp.

The two teenagers turned their heads to see Cordelia standing alone, James walking away in direction of tall scarecrow-like woman by the door to who Will and Tessa were rushing with concern on their faces. Her dress was black and outdated by at least a decade clashing with her graying hair. Next to her was a small girl who was pure white and ivory. A nagging feeling in Ainsley's chest made her feel as though the white exterior was there to hide a darker interior. 

The infamous Grace Blackthorn. A girl who looked like snow. 

But the thing about snow was that it may be pretty but it was cold.

"Go." Matthew turned to Ainsley as she looked at him with expectant black eyes. "Cordelia needs a partner. Matthew, go."

"But I'll be leaving you on the dance floor. Alone." Matthew pressed the last word.

"I'm the one insisting you go."

The boy looked conflicted but finally sighed. "I'll make it up to you." He promised.

"Oh, I'm counting on that." The girl said jokingly. "Now go before anyone notices."

He let go of her and quickly ducked his head down to kiss her cheek, leaving the girl frozen before hurrying over and taking Cordelia's hand and began dancing as if they'd been doing it the whole evening.

"Annie." The girl turned to see Thomas looking at her with raised eyebrows. He held out a hand. "May I?"

"Of course." She stuttered, placing her hand in her parabatai's. Her thoughts so jumbled up by Matthew's actions that she didn't notice the knowing smirk playing on Thomas' lips.

They started dancing, much less close then Ainsley and Matthew had been but still quite close. "Are you alright?"

"Fine." Ainsley answered a little too quickly. Noting Thomas' raised eyebrows that clearly read that he didn't believe her, she quickly added. "Honestly, I'm more worried about poor Cordelia."

The Lightwood boy nodded at that as they both turned their gaze to Cordelia as she and Matthew talked. "I can't believe Jamie just left her. For Grace Blackthorn."

"I definitely don't want to be him. Knowing you, he'll be getting quite the earful."

"Obviously."

They both looked at each before exploding into laughter. Laughing with Thomas was always so easy. 

When they'd calmed down Ainsley joked, "I hope you're alright by the way. Being left on the dance floor by Lucie like that. It had to sting."

"Well, I like to think that if the roles were reversed I'd do the same so I can't stay annoyed about it." The boy shrugged earning a wide smile from his parabatai. "And have I mentioned that you look lovely?"

"Can people stop complimenting me?" Ainsley flushed as she looked down.

Thomas started laughing again. He knew she didn't know how to take compliments. The brunette girl always became a blushing mess. 

Ainsley hit him on the arm. "Stop." She smiled despite herself before joining in on his laughter as they continued swaying on the dance floor, like two innocent children who the world couldn't touch. 

Not yet anyways.

.

A/N  
Me? Updating twice in a week? What? I blame Christmas 🤷♀️   
I hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. The ball is one of my favorite moments in Chain of Gold and it's also the calm before the storm that is brewing   
*cue evil laughter*  
And I just love Matthew and Ainsley and our girl's stubbornness, there is no way she'd calling Math handsome to his face.  
And, Merry Christmas my lovelies! 🎉🎄🎊

.


	5. IV.

.

THE LIVING HAND

This living hand, now warm and capable  
Of earnest grasping, would, if it were cold  
And in the icy silence of the tomb,  
So haunt thy days and chill thy dreaming nights  
That thou would wish thine own heart dry of blood  
So in my veins red life might stream again.

—John Keats, "This Living Hand"

.

THE MUSIC SOON CAME TO a close and Ainsley left Thomas with a kiss on the cheek before heading to the refreshments table where she desperately searched for her and Christopher's favorite dessert in the entire universe: lemon tarts.

And she couldn't seem to find one. Someone cleared their throat behind her making the girl turn with wide eyes, a smile lighting her face at the sight of Matthew a smile on his own face. Locks of his blonde hair had fallen over his eyes but he couldn't seem bothered to push them back. The sight of him made Ainsley's cheeks flush a little, her thoughts returning to when he'd kissed her cheek. The feeling of his soft lips against her cheek had been so delicate and gentle that it might as well have been a feather from a faraway dream.

"Looking for one of these?" He brought a lemon tart from behind his back which made the blush leave the girl's face as it light up even more, like a child's on Christmas morning. Matthew watched with fondness as Ainsley took it and wasted no time in taking a bite out of the pastry.

The brunette saw his gaze, watching in confusion. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you're planning on killing me and hiding my body." She joked, making the blonde roll his eyes. She giggled a little. "Okay, seriously. What is it?"

"Just wondering if you remembered about the picnic tomorrow."

Ainsley sent him a deadpan expression. "Matthew, of course I remember. It involves food."

The Fairchild boy couldn't stop the startled laugh that left him. He should have expected that answer. He looked as if he were going to say something but changed his mind. "Does the tart make up for leaving you alone on the dance floor?"

"No." Ainsley stated flatly, finishing said tart. Her eyes moved to Cordelia who was off by the side. "How is she?"

Matthew's green eyes followed, spotting the younger girl as he sighed. "Surprised mostly. I promised her that you would be giving James an earful." He added.

"Well that's a given." The half-Korean sighed.

She doubted this was the welcome Cordelia Carstairs had been expecting when informed that there was to be a ball in her and her family's honor. But there was nothing she could do about it until after the ball, when she would get James alone and lecture him until his ears fell off.

She turned back to Matthew. "Dance with me some more?"

"Will it make up for leaving you?"

"In part."

Matthew shot her an amused smirk. "You're planning on milking this for a longtime, aren't you?"

"What? I would never." Ainsley feigned innocence.

They both chuckled at that, but Matthew still held his hand out to the girl. They began moving back towards the dance floor when the boy stumbled bringing them to a pause.

"Math?"

He gripped onto her tighter, keeping himself upright. "Jamie." He gasped out. "Something's wrong with Jamie."

Ainsley looked around the room, trying to spot the familiar messy mop of black curls. When her eyes finally found him, she tugged Matthew with her. "Come on."

They weaved their way through the crowd, acting as casual as they could as to not alert everyone of what was going on until they finally reached the side where James stood. From closer, the girl noticed that his outline was blurring the way it usually did when he was about to descend into the Shadow World.

Matthew had managed to come back to himself, quickly flying into action and latched on to one of James' shoulders as he shook him a little. "Jamie," He said urgently, his green eyes filled with anxiousness. "Jamie, Jamie," 

Even when James had little to no control over his ability, he had never almost turned into a shadow during a social event safe for that fateful day at the Academy.

Ainsley shared his worry and caught her foster brother's other shoulder, the pair of them shielding the boy from the crowd. "James." She said. "James it's us. It's Matthew and Annie."

They boy blinked, his gold eyes focusing on the pair's concerned faces as they stood over him as if they'd just appeared. "Jamie, breathe," Matthew instructed, is voice firm yet comforting.

Ainsley squeezed his shoulder in reassurance, letting him know he was okay and that they were there for him. The Herondale's hand came up to rest over hers as he questioned panting, "Did they see me? Did they see me turn?"

"You didn't," The half-Korean shared a glance with Matthew as she spoke with furrowed eyebrows, her voice a mingle of confusion and hesitation. The poor boy thought he'd actually turned into a shadow in front of the whole ballroom.

The blonde tried to brighten the mood, musing, "Or at least, only a very little bit—perhaps just a bit fuzzy round the edges—"

"It's not funny," James sent him a look but one could tell he was glad for Matthew's ability to lighten any situation, even if just by a little bit. He glanced between his two friends, confusion. "You mean—I didn't turn into a shadow?"

Matthew and Ainsley shared yet another look before glancing back at James, their hands leaving his shoulders -though the Herondale still kept a tight grip on Ainsley's.

"No." They shook their head.

"Then how did you know to come to me?"

"Matthew." The half-Korean turned to look at the blonde again.

The boy's hair was still hanging over his eyes as he gravely explained. "I felt it. That you had gone to—that place." 

Ainsley closed her eyes and let out a sad exhale though her nose when she saw Matthew's hand reach for a certain pocket in his waistcoat. One which's contents she was far too familiar with. 

Her eyes opened when the sharp and intimate smell of whiskey tickled her nostrils. She moved her black irises away, hating how Matthew seemed to have no regard for his health. Ainsley hated watching him harm himself that way.

She caught sight of Thomas in the distance, towering over Christopher. They both gazed in the trio's direction, curiosity creasing their faces. Ainsley managed to send her parabatai a shrug as to say that she wasn't actually all that sure of what was happening either.

"What happened?" Matthew questioned, bringing the brunette girl's attention back to them. 

Getting where he was going, she added, "Weren't you talking with Anna? After the song ended?"

"It was Matthew's brother's fault," James said making the other two share another glance.

How the hell could Charles Buford Fairchild be the reason for James' trip into the shadows? It made no sense.  
Charles was harmless. A little dull and quite annoying but not in any way threatening. The only thing he was a threat to was people's patience.

But what was even stranger was that Charles wasn't even within fifty feet of James. He was on the other side of the room. With Grace Blackthorn.

"I am perfectly prepared to think everything is Charles's fault," said Matthew. It was no secret that the Fairchild brothers acted more like strangers then family. Always ready to blame the other for anything, the longest civil conversation Ainsley was aware of between Charles and Matthew had lasted a record of two words when Matthew was 15 and his brother 22. But even he seemed hesitant to accept that Charles had somehow made James begin his descent into the gray and black world he had grown accustomed to. "But in this case—"

They never got to know what he was going to say because and ear splitting scream pierced through the soft play of the String Quartet and laughter and chatter of the room.

The boys both froze but Ainsley was quick to gather her skirts into her hands as she took of in the direction of the sound.

.

WORRY PULSED THROUGH AINSLEY ASHWOOD as she reached the origin of the cry, her heart starting to hammer against her rib cage at the sight of Barbara Lightwood unconscious on Oliver Hayward's lap.

"For pity's sake!" He called desperately. "Someone come help her!"

The brunette was at his side in a second, throwing herself on her knees next to him.

"Oliver." She breathed, the young man looking at her. He had a look of relief in his orbs when he saw her.

Marcus arrived behind the boy, also leaning down. "Barbara." He was on the other side of the girl, in front of his sister as they shared a worried look. "Oli, what happened?"

"We were dancing," The boy was in shock, his face closed off as he were recalling a cruel memory. "and she just collapsed—"

Ainsley felt a presence drop down next to her, the corner of her black eyes catching sight of the rich red curls she had grown used to since the previous day. She knew it was Cordelia though her attention stayed on Barbara's ghost white and clammy face. Her chest heaved up and down as if she were struggling.

"She needs air," Cordelia said, two pairs of matching black eyes turned to her as she continued. "Her corset is probably tormenting her." Corsets were suffocating enough when one was upright and well, Ainsley only shuddered at the thought of how much Barbara must be feeling. "Has anyone a knife?"

"I have a dagger." Anna stepped through the crowd. Her hand reached into her waistcoat and placed the weapon into Marcus' awaiting hand.

"What needs to be done, Cordelia?"

"We need to cut her corset off," The redhead instructed. "She has had a shock, and she needs to breathe."

"You might leave that to us," The Ashwood girl send her a small smile. 

"He-joo." Ainsley knew what her brother needed. She always did. 

She replied with a quick "Ye," and gently picked her parabatai's sister off Oliver's lap and let her brother cut through the fabric and corset of Barbara's dress. The material started sagging of the girl's frame making Marcus quickly catch it.

Anna, who was stood directly behind the boy also noticed and looked around before calling, "Ari—your wrapper—"

Ariadne took of her silk wrapper, colored the same as wine. "Thanks, love." Marcus sent her a weak but genuine smile before bundling Barbara up as if she were a sick child and it was a blanket to keep her warm.

Ainsley saw with relief that the girl's chest was moving with normal ease at the task of breathing and that her cheek were going back to rosie from the paper white shade they had occupied a second ago. The Ashwood siblings turned to Cordelia. "Thank you."

They didn't get to hear a response because Sophie Lightwood had seen a crowd forming and approached calling, "What on earth?" But when she saw what was happening and came to her knees next to Marcus who gently squeezed his aunt's shoulder in comfort. "Barbara!" Gideon was behind her, worry etching lines upon his festures. Sophie's gaze turned to Oliver who had gotten up after Marcus had taken his lady of his lap. "Did she fall?" 

"She just collapsed," Ainsley felt a hand on her shoulder and saw Matthew there. She took his hand as he helped her up, neither letting go when she was upright again, continuing to listen to Oliver. "We were dancing, and she fainted—"

He broke of when Barbara's eyelids fluttered. She sat up in Marcus' arms, her cheeks tinged a bright shade of red as she blinked up at Sophie. "I'm—I'm all right," she said. "I'm all right now. I had a spell, a silly dizzy spell." 

Marcus and Gideon helped the girl stand, Sophie right next to them as others joined. Thomas quickly raced up to her, holding out a handkerchief to his sister. Ainsley let go of Matthew's hand to go and join her parabatai as his eyes searched for her. She wrapped her arms around one of his, feeling the tense muscles relax a little. Though he tensed again when Barbara pulled his handkerchief away from the lips she'd been dabbing and it was scarlet with blood. She could hardly blame him. This was his oldest sister and she doubted that she was any less tense herself. 

"I bit my lip," Barbara informed with haste. "I fell, and bit my lip. That's all."

"We need a stele," Thomas turned to the Herondale boy who had appeared, aware that Ainsley's wasn't on her. "James?"

Ainsley saw him mutter something to Cordelia who shakingly reached into his jacket and grabbed a stele and held it out to Thomas. The boy was surprised but accepted with thanks and pressed the tip to his sister's skin.

The brunette girl had noticed that Lucie had appeared and that she looked worried. She was tugging at James' boy but he quickly and quietly told her that it wasn't the moment.

Everyone watched with apprehension while the Lightwood girl huffed, "I'm fine, honestly. It was just a small dizzy spell. I forgot to eat today," She glanced at her mother while the woman wrapped an arm around her. "That's all it is."

"Nevertheless, we had better get you home," Sophie glanced back, her eyes falling on the man she had grown to love like a brother. "Will—can you have the carriage brought around?"

The people were dispersing, the Ashwoods walking along with the Lightwood siblings as they headed towards the door, Barbara in Thomas' arms. "Tom, take care of your sister." Marcus ordered gravely.

The boy smiled. "I will Marcus."

"And you," The half-Korean boy turned Barbara, a strict tone lighting his voice. "You eat something before the picnic tomorrow okay?"

"Yes Marcus." The girl grinned. 

He nodded satisfied, watching as Thomas kissed Ainsley's forehead in good bye before his sister joined his side and they watched the Lightwood siblings faded out of the door. The two moved back to where Matthew, Lucie, James and Cordelia stood, watching something.

"What are we looking at?" The brunette girl questioned as she took place between Matthew and James, arms crossed over her chest.

Her eyes fell on the Inquisitor, a man with -in Ainsley's opinion- a hideous handlebar moustache talking to her Uncle Gideon with child-like excitement. 

"What's the Inquisitor saying to Uncle Gideon?" Marcus placed his hands on Lucie's shoulders as she spoke.

The two younger boys shrugged as they all kept watching with interest. Finally the blonde man nodded and moved to follow him towards where a familiar head of gelled red hair was speaking with a petite and delicate looking Grace Blackthorn. She had a wide look of interest on her face that Ainsley rolled her eyes at. She knew it was fake. Nobody was interested in what Charles Fairchild had to say other then Charles Fairchild. 

She didn't understand why society wanted women to fake interest in things they don't care about just to appease egotistical men.

She watched as Charles -an engaged man- disappointedly turned away from her to speak with Gideon as the Inquisitor weaved through the crowd, stopping when he reached a group of twenty-something Shadowhunters and began speaking to them intently.

"Looks like the party's over," A voice cut in making all of them turn to see Alastair Carstairs walking towards them, a cigar between his slim fingers. 

Marcus playfully narrowed his eyes. "Well if it isn't the traitor."

Alastair creased his eyebrows and titled his head confused while Ainsley rolled her eyes with a soft, "By the Angel," completely exasperated with her brother and his theatrics. 

But a thought went through her head. She turned to the half-Persian boy. "Hey Carstairs," he turned to her with raised eyebrows. "Since you so callously abandoned my brother for Charles, do you have any idea what all that is about?"

"Apparently there was a Shax demon attack in Seven Dials."

James couldn't help the surprise in his voice or on his face. "A demon attack? On mundanes?"

"Yes, you know, the sort of thing we're meant to prevent. Angelic mandate and all that." Ainsley grabbed Matthew's hand, holding it tightly to keep the blond from pouncing on Alastair. 

"Calm down." She muttered into his ear. She could see his face had turned harder then the gray stone of the Institute they currently stood in and honestly, she was surprised it had just made an appearance now instead of when Alastair first approached them.

It was no secret to anyone that Matthew hated Alastair Carstairs. The Merry Thieves all did, save for Thomas who was just the purest and kindest soul to have walked the Earth. But while the others just assumed it was because of how he treated James when they were at the Academy, Ainsley knew that there was a deeper reason for Matthew's hate. He might be rude and mean at times but Matthew Fairchild didn't hate -and that is actual, burning hate we are talking about- people without real and strong reasoning other then just 'He bullied my best friend'. 

He turned his green eyes onto her as she sent him a pointed look. "It's not worth it." Her voice was hushed and soothing.

He seemed to give in as they both turned their attention back to the boy with dyed hair. "Charles is going with Gideon Lightwood and Inquisitor Bridgestock to see what's going on," He explained.

"I'm sorry, Barbara just fainted and they want Uncle Gideon to go hunt a demon instead of making sure his daughter is alright?" Marcus sounded as disgusted as his sister felt. That was just wrong.

Alastair shrugged. "I offered to go with them, but I don't know the streets of London well enough yet. Charles-"

"Again with Charles." Marcus rolled his eyes. There was no love between Marcus and Charles either. The boy seriously made everyone hate him somehow.

"-will get me acquainted with the city and I will soon be a gift to any patrol." Alastair continued as if his best friend hadn't just spoken.

Ainsley heard Matthew scoff next to her. His green eyes were bright with annoyance and rage as he muttered, "You, a gift. Imagine."

After giving Ainsley's hand one last squeeze, the blonde walked away, all eyes following his departing frame.

"Moody, isn't he?" The half-Persian boy commented as he also watched him leave.

Feeling her foster brother's body start to tense up next to her, Ainsley wrapped her arm around his as they both all but snapped "No,"

"Honestly, Carstairs," The girl kept going, her voice flat as her head was tilted to the side and her face bore a look of exasperation and question fitted with cold black eyes. "You know he doesn't like you, why push his very limited buttons?"

He was saved from answering his best friend's sister when Sona Carstairs appeared in the similar fashion to a steamer rejoining a dock. Her gaze instantly found her children as she addressed them, "Children, I believe we should take our leave."

Looking around, Ainsley saw that Alastair had in fact been right when he said that the party was over. Will and Tessa were wishing the Enclave members a good night while the musicians put away their instruments. The parlour girls followed after their parents who moved with restless energy and Ainsley could practically hear Rosamund's high pitched voice complaining to Catherine about how the dance was ruined before anything of interest could happen to them. 

Note to self, if one ever wants to ruin a ball, starting a rumour about a demon attack seems to do the job quite efficiently. 

Ainsley noticed that Marcus had moved to wrap an arm around a rather pale looking Lucie, who burrowed into her foster brother as Will and Tessa Herondale approached the group that consisted of their children and the Carstairs family. 

"Oh, dear," Tessa cried after Sona had thanked them for a lovely evening, "We will try again, Mrs. Carstairs, truly. You deserve a real welcome to the London Enclave."

"I am sure if we put our heads together, we can think of something." Sona said.

"Thank you for rushing to help Barbara, Cordelia," Tessa beamed over at that girl. "You will make quite an excellent parabatai for Lucie."

Ainsley turned her gaze back to her foster sister. She had a wobbly smile on her lips, looking positively uncomfortable and as if she was try to get sucked into Marcus' side and out of the world's view. James and Ainsley shared a look with the older boy when Lucie didn't reply.  
It was a secret language between the two sets of siblings. 

James moved in front of his sister as to block her from all the attention, Ainsley still on his arm as Marcus rubbed up and down the Herondale girl's arm in comfort.

"Cordelia was a great help to Barbara," The half-Korean girl smiled. 

Marcus added, "She was the one who had the idea to cut her corset away." Which got him a horrified look from the Carstairs woman.

She tried to 'make up' for her daughter's behaviour, hastily saying, "Cordelia has a tendency to throw herself into every situation headlong, I'm sure you understand."

"Oh, we do," Will nodded his head vigorously. "We're always speaking very sternly to our children about that very thing. 'If you don't throw yourself into situations headlong, James, Annie, Marcus and Lucie, you can expect bread and water for supper again.'"

"Just ask Marcus," Ainsley played along. "It's all he's been having for weeks."

Alastair barely managed to hold his laugh while Marcus glared at his sister. "At least I'm sociable."

"Oh big brother," Ainsley turned to him with a smirk. "Why would I be sociable when I can be me?"

Tessa turned to her husband with raised eyebrows as if to say, look what you've done while the dark haired man proudly grinned down at his foster daughter. 

Sona though was staring at him as if he'd just grow a second head. "Good night, Mr. Herondale," she managed to get out while guiding her children and herself towards the door. "This has certainly been a most interesting evening." 

.

THERE WAS A RUMOR THAT went around when Ainsley and the Merry Thieves were around fourteen.

People had started saying that Matthew Fairchild wasn't the son of Henry Fairchild. They said that since Henry could no longer make usage of his legs, everything under the waist must be useless. They said that because Matthew didn't ressemble either of his parents with his wild blonde locks, unlike Charles who had inherited his father's red hair and his mother's hazel eyes, he must be a bastard.

But as Ainsley Ashwood approached Matthew and Henry Fairchild, she didn't see how anyone could ever doubt that the two were father and son.

Matthew had his forearms on the back of his father's Bath chair, his head tilted gently to the side as they both talked in quiet voice with twined smiles on their faces. Those smiles graced their faces so effortlessly, that Ainsley couldn't help but wonder if Matthew or Henry even realised they were beaming that way.

"I'm sorry about this," they both turned their matching green eyes onto the girl as she reached them, her hands clasped in front of her. "But it appears that you have the misfortune of having me be the one to walk you out."

"You say misfortune, I say privilege." Matthew grinned earning himself an eye roll from the brunette as she shook her head, a small smile trying to fight its way to her lips.

Since she had to deal with the rest of the house and all her children save Ainsley had rushed off somewhere after bidding the Carstairs family goodbye, Tessa had asked if the half-Korean girl would walk the Fairchild's out.

She couldn't have refused. And she loved Matthew and Henry, especially together. There was just something about the picture of Matthew Fairchild behind his father's chair looking so caring and carefree and.... young. He looked innocent and happy.

"You don't have to Ainsley," Henry mentioned as they all started heading to the door. "If it's any trouble, we can show ourselves out."

The girl paused, making Matthew stop pushing his father's chair as well. He watched as she sunk down to the floor, her skirts fanning out around her making her look like a flower. She took the older man's hand and squeezed it, her eyes completely sincere. "It is never a trouble to have to spend time with you and Matthew, Henry."

The red haired man smiled down at her, a smile that reminded her so much of Matthew down to the last crease. She found herself grinning back. 

She got herself back up and fell into step next to Matthew, who looked over at her. Feeling his gaze, the brunette turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised in question.

"You always know what to say." He said quietly. 

There was more to that sentence that he left unsaid.

You always know what to say to my father. You're always so kind to my father. Thank you.

Ainsley knew all the cruel things people said about Henry and to think it used to be worse before the Clockwork War. People looked down at him for wanting to invent things and use his brain for something other then battle and bloodshed. They spoke behind his back that he could no longer use his legs. 

But Ainsley never saw it. To her, Henry Fairchild was never an injured and invalid Shadowhunter. He was Henry, Matthew's kind and loving father.   
And who was she to judge? She was the daughter of an injured man herself. Will said that her father's limp used to be so bad that he needed a cane to walk when they were younger and the only reason he didn't have it anymore by the time Marcus and herself came into the world was thanks to Magnus Bane.

"Are you alright?" The girl noticed that she must have looked quite serious from the look Matthew was giving her.

"Worried."

"About?"

Ainsley turned her gaze to Henry, noting that he was in his own little world. He was in no way paying attention to the two teenagers.

"Barbara. James." She turned to him, his green eyes carefully watching her. "You. Everyone." She swiftly added.

The boy sighed as they reached the door. The Ashwood girl moved to open it for them. She gently kissed Henry on the cheek with a warm smile that he gladly returned before wheeling himself forward to give the two youngsters some privacy.

Matthew grabbed the girl's hand, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of it. His eyes were fixed on their hands, not noticing the pink tinge that was burning Ainsley's cheeks. "We'll figure it." He finally looked up, his lips turned up into a soft smile. If you asked Ainsley, this smile was even more precious then the one that rested on his whole face. "We will figure out a way to keep our family safe."

The girl reached up a hand to push the blonde locks out of his eyes. "I know." Her look focused on those beautiful green orbs again. She couldn't seem to ever get sick of them. "I guess, I'll see you tomorrow then?"

The smile turned into a playful smirk. "Do you think you'll survive that long without me?"

The girl groaned and hit the boy who barked a laugh and tried to protect himself with his arms. He finally sped away, turning back with a grin. "Good night, Leo." He called, cheekily adding, "Hope you see me in your dreams."

"You wish." The girl called back, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched the blonde rejoin his father and the two of them dissolve into the pitch black sky. 

.

"JAMIE?" THE DARK HAIRED BOY turned at the sound of his name being called. 

Ainsley had a feeling she'd find her foster brother there. For some reason the roof of the London Institute was the place to go if one needed to think. And after all the excitement of the ball, she wasn't all that surprised that he needed to think.

"Hey." James greeted in a startled tone.

Ainsley joined the boy at the railing, standing next to him and laying her head on his shoulder while his arm came and wrapped around hers.

"Are you alright?"

"I guess." James sighed. "Something odd happened."

The girl tilted her head up to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"When I was in the Shadow Realm, it felt like I was in the ballroom. I saw Barbara and there was this.... thing there. Like a tentacle. It grabbed her leg and then you and Matthew brought me back." He moved to golden eyes from where they had been looking at St. Paul's Cathedral to the girl who was looking up at him confused and curiously. "What are the odds that what I saw had something to do with what happened to Barbara?"

Ainsley didn't know how to answer. What James was saying did make sense, the tentacle he saw might have been the reason for Barbara's fall and not the lack of eating as she claimed. But they couldn't be sure.

"Maybe you should send a message to Uncle Jem." She finally said. "He's helped before."

"By releasing a very excited Mr. Oscar Wilde on me." Ainsley giggled at the memory of Matthew's golden retriever pouncing in an unsuspecting James.

He sighed and took out a matchbox from his pocket, the Greek messenger of Gods sketched on the cover. Ainsley watched as her foster brother lit one of them by striking it on the iron railing. Her eyes looked at the flickering flame, almost entranced by it.

"So was the rest of your evening?" James smirked down at her. "You and Matthew spent quite some time together."

"You're saying that as if my spending time with Matthew is an unusual feat." Ainsley raised an eyebrow. She then remembered what had happened before James almost turned into a shadow and Barbara collapsed. 

The brunette girl straightened and struck the boy behind the head with an open palm. "Ow!"

"Do you have any idea how humiliating it is for a young lady to be abandoned on the dance floor by their partner the way you left Cordelia?"

James winced, rubbing the back of head. "I know. I wasn't thinking." He looked at his foster sister warily. "I promise I'll apologise to her tomorrow. At the picnic."

He moved to walk away but Ainsley just went after him as he took of running. "Oh, you're not getting of that easy James Herondale!"

The pair ran back into the Institute, leaving the small match to wink out of existence.

.

A/N  
HAPPY BIRTHDAY WILLIAM HERONDALE!!   
This wasn't planned at all 😅 just a happy coincidence!  
I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. And I hope to bask in the possible feelings of affection you all might have towards me before I lose them in the next chapter *evil laughter*  
I swear, you are all going to hate me. It'll be glorious and heartbreaking. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed!

.


	6. V.

.

HALF SICK OF SHADOWS

Or when the moon was overhead  
Came two young lovers lately wed;  
"I am half sick of shadows," said The Lady of Shalott.

—Alfred, Lord Tennyson, "The Lady of Shalott"

.

AINSLEY WAS STARING AT HER reflection the next morning. She was trying to do something with her hair but after twisting, twirling, braiding and doing numerous other things with her brunette locks the girl huffed and let them fall over her shoulders like a curtain.

All the teenagers and young adults of the London Enclave were going to be at Regent's Park that afternoon for picnic. The young girl had been looking forward to this for quite some time now, just an afternoon surrounded by her family and food. But now that the day was actually here, Ainsley couldn't help but feel worried. 

With all the events that had been going on in the last few days, with her and the boys defeating a Deumas, Barbara at the ball and then what James said he saw, it almost seemed inevitable that something would happen at the park. 

The girl was broken out of her thoughts by a knock on her door. She turned her head to see Marcus poke his head in and smile warmly at his little sister when he caught her eyes. "Ready to go?"

"No." Ainsley turned back to the mirror and scowled at her appearance. "I don't know what to do with my hair."

Her obsidian eyes met their twins in the glass of the mirror as her brother came up behind her. He was in a simple gray suit with a crisp white shirt and blue waistcoat. His hair was an unruly mop of black atop his head like always and his face was filled with its usual kindness.

It funny that while he'd inherited more of their father's personality, his appearance was much closer to their mother's and it was the opposite for Ainsley who had Ji-a's protective and fierce nature paired with Scott's brown locks and features. 

Marcus looked down at his sister's mid-length curls, his face twisted up in concentration and his hands on his hips before grabbing the brush and carefully dragging it through Ainsley's hair.

His fingers were kind and gentle as threaded through her hair and finally pulled them so that they were in a loose bun with two braids around her head like a crown, a couple of bangs escaping the pins to frame her face.

"There." He grinned admiring his work in the mirror, his hands laying upon Ainsley's shoulders. The girl grinned back happily, like a young child as she stood up and faced her brother, her navy blue skirt billowing around her.

Her fingers delicately reached back to touch the knot that was resting at the base of her neck. "This might be some of your best work yet." She complimented.

Marcus had learned to braid his sister's hair from a young age. Sometimes their parents wouldn't be home and the girl would refuse to let anyone make her hair, claiming they hurt her or pulled too hard. She would run the length of the Seoul Institute with chamber maids rushing after her wielding hairbrushes and pins. Finally Marcus asked one of them to teach him how to braid hair and make ponytails and all the other things that had gone over his head for the longest time. After that he had been one of the only people allowed to make her hair other then her mother and later on Lucie who had instantly fell in love with her foster sister's luscious brown curls. 

Though Ainsley had to admit that she hadn't expected her brother to still be so good at it since she had gotten into the habit of making her own hair since her year at the Academy. 

The boy smiled down at her, a prideful look on his face that she didn't miss. The younger Ashwood tilted her head to the side with a confused smile. "What is it?"

"You're so grown up."

Ainsley rolled her eyes and came moved forward wrapping her arms around his waist as she gazed up at him. "Stop talking like you're some ancient old man, Oppa." She smiled and pointed out. "You're 19."

"I know," Marcus wrapped his arms around her waist as they both stood in the middle of the room in each other's embrace. "But you're my little sister," he pushed on her forehead with his pointer finger, Ainsley playing along and leaning back with her face adorably scrunched up. "Sometimes I don't realise that you're not a little girl I need to protect and keep out of trouble anymore."

The girl laid her head on her brother's chest, careful not to mess up his work, and listened to the comforting sound of his healthy and lively heartbeat. She felt him place his head on top of hers as they swayed. "No matter what, I will always need you. Maybe not to protect me or to keep me from getting in trouble, but I need to know you're here. That you have my side, the same I have yours. I will always be your little sister, Marcus. And I will always need you, no matter what."

It was a rare thing for Ainsley to address her brother by his Christian name. She only ever did it if it was something dead serious.

At the sound, Marcus just pulled her closer into his chest and swooping down to press his lips to her hairline. "I love you, Ainsley."

"I love you, Marcus."

.

LONDON WAS HOME TO AINSLEY Ashwood. Maybe it was because of how little she remembered Seoul or she never really lived in Idris long enough to appreciate its charms or because it's where she'd spent the majority of her years. 

It was in London that so many things had happened. It was where her parents met in 1878. It was where she made her first friends. It was where she'd learned how to properly use her jingum. 

It was where she could sometimes hear the echos of the past that had once been confined in the walls of the Institute. It was the loud and welcoming sound of Downworlders laughing and drinking together at the Devil Tavern. It was where her family and friends were.

To Ainsley, London was home. 

But if anyone asked Ainsley one of her favorite parts of London, the girl would inevitably say the parks. Whether it be Hyde Park, Kensington Gardens, the Soho Square Gardens or any other of the green slabs of sunshine and paradise the city had to offer, Ainsley Ashwood had been there not once, not twice but at least seven times and loved every second of her excursions.

The young girl breathed in the soft breeze that rushed her way as she walked among the throng of blankets ranging from cherry red to canary yellow to rose and the bustling crowds of people in Regent's Park that day. 

Despite the dark feeling of worry that loomed over her, the sky was blue and the sun smiled down on the youngsters of the London Enclave dressed in colourful day dresses or knit sweaters.  
People were sprawled around picnic baskets or clustered towards the lake, laughing and avidly chatting with their friends. 

Ainsley walked with her arm in the crook of James' with Lucie bubbling with energy in front of them and Marcus behind them with his hands in his pockets.  
Despite the earful she had given James just the eve of this event, the boy was in no way vexed or annoyed at her and the girl couldn't stay mad at him when she saw that he was genuinely sorry about leaving Cordelia alone on the dance floor and that he would apologise.

"How?" James shook his head as they followed after the youngest member of their family. "How does she always have so much energy?"

Marcus smiled. "She's excited. Annie was the same when Thomas was coming back from Spain and don't think I've forgotten all the cribbing you did when we were in Idris and we weren't ready to go because you missed Matthew."

"But we were never that excited," he gestured to his sister's form that couldn't stay still as she try to catch a glimpse of her best friend's red locks over the heads of other Shadowhunters.

"I was. I just know how to hide it." Ainsley came to Lucie's defence.

"Marcus!" The trio spun at the sound of a voice calling the oldest of them. They saw Alastair waving him over.

The boy turned to his younger siblings who smiled and nodded, encouraging him to go. He grinned and placed a kiss on his sister's head and ruffled his foster brother's hair -his usual way of saying 'bye'- before moving to join his best friend by the water.

"Lu!" The younger girl turned, she saw Ainsley nod towards the basket in her hands and took out a red apple, tossing it over to her. After easily catching it, the half-Korean called her brother. She threw him the apple to which he grinned and winked before continuing his way to the waterside.

"Oh! There they are!" Lucie exclaimed pointing towards a group which consisted of not only Cordelia Carstairs but also Thomas, Anna and Christopher Lightwood.

Lucie took of running towards them, calling her best friend while James grumbled some more but still let Ainsley pull him along with her as they approached the blanket. The girl's eyes widened with astonishment and delight as she caught sight of all the food Cordelia had brought with her.

"Oh, lovely!" Lucie got down in the spot that Christopher and Anna made for her and started digging through the basket she insisted on carrying despite Ainsley's many offers to take it. "We can combine our winnings. Let's see what you have."

The half-Korean girl moved to sit next to Thomas, James next to her as he glanced into Christopher's notebook. "By the Angel Cordelia." She breathed out in amazement. "Are you planning on feeding the entire Enclave?"

The girl blushed a little while Anna gave her a once over and nodded. "It seems that blue suits you just as well as it suits your brother, Annie."

The girl's face burned till it was the shade of a tomato and buried her face into Thomas' side as he wrapped an arm around her. He and the others let out a laugh at his parabatai's inability to take compliments and just dropped a kiss into her hair. "You alright?"

After a second the girl let out a soft sigh and pulled away, her face still dusted in pink. "I'm alright." She exhaled before turning to face him again. "How's Barbara?"

"She's fine," he glanced at her walking with Oliver. "She thinks Oliver will propose."

"I hope Marcus knows." James furrowed his eyebrows. "He'll throw a fit otherwise."

Ainsley nodded while shuddering, her face now practically back to its normal shade since the attention was no longer on her. "It'll be like when we decided to be parabatai all over again."

Everyone but Cordelia grimaced at the memory of Marcus padding around the Institute like an airing ghost screaming that he had been betrayed and that the devil shall come to claim his soul at the top of his lungs for weeks.

To break everyone out of their trance Christopher spoke up, declaring, "Annie, you must try these."

He held out a lemon tart to which she brightened and placed a quick peck on his cheek before relieving him of the pastry. 

"What did it turn out to be, last night?" Cordelia asked. She was looking at Lucie but the question was possibly also aimed at James and Ainsley as well. "The demon business in Seven Dials."

James opened his mouth to answer but was cut of by Ainsley. "Cordelia will you marry me?" She was staring down at the lemon tart in her hand with wide and happy eyes.

Thomas looked at her confused. He took a bite out of the tart that she offered, nodding. "Alright, I can understand why you would want to marry her. These tarts really are amazing."

James rolled his golden eyes at his foster sibling and best friend but not without affection as a wide smile came to grace his face. Said smile didn't leave his face when he turned back to Cordelia and answered her earlier question after a small, "Don't mind them. As for the attack, it was Shax demons all up and down Monmouth Street. They had to call on Ragnor Fell to help glamour the place so the mundanes wouldn't notice what was going on."

Thomas' lips tugged downwards in thought as he mused, "It's odd, after so long, we encountered that demon the other night, and now yesterday—"

"You encountered a demon?" Lucie cut in, her blue eyes narrowing at Ainsley who pretended not to notice as she grabbed another tart. "When was that?"

"Er, I may have been wrong. It may not have been a demon. It may have been a textbook about demons." None of the two Merry Thieves present or their Maid Marian even attempt to hide their disappointment and amusement at the boy's poor attempt to cover up the truth.

Ainsley Ashwood might not be able to deal with compliments, but Thomas Lightwood didn't know how to lie.

Lucie raised an unimpressed eyebrow and pointed out as much. "Thomas, you are the most dreadful liar. I want to know what happened."

"It's alright, love." Ainsley patted the boy's shoulder with a teasing tone. 

Thomas huffed and stole her tart, stuffed it into his mouth. The girl gasped at him as if he had committed the worst crime in the world to which he grinned. When she glared and turned her back to him, her arms crossed over her chest. The tall boy hugged her from behind mumbling apologises into her ear which made her give in and relax into her parabatai's arms.

"You can always get the truth out of Matthew," added James with a fond glance in the pair's direction. "You can wheedle anything out of him, you know that, Luce.""

"Annie is the sister who can wheedle out of him." The Herondale girl reminded pointedly. "Not me."

Ainsley furrowed her brow as her mouth got set in a confused pout. "What do you mean?"

To everyone's surprise, Christopher was the one to answer as he looked up from his notebook. "He'd tell you anything if it meant you'd smile Ainsley." He specified. "Even I've noticed."

"No." The girl shook her head, denying all of it. "No that's ridiculous. Matthew would tell you lot anything to make you smile too." She looked around over to the lake trying to catch a glimpse of his familiar golden curls or colourful waistcoat. "Where even is he? He said he'd be coming."

All eyes seemed to turn the half-Persian redhead, knowing that she had dances with him last before the evening went to hell and that maybe she had information on the subject. But she seemed to be irked by something. Ainsley followed her eyes to see that they were fixed on James with a rather furious look. 

She smirked to herself a little as Cordelia suddenly rose to her feet and brushed of her skirts as if she hadn't almost just accidentally spilled Thomas' ginger beer on him. "James, I'd like to speak with you in private for a moment, if you don't mind."

Everyone was completely surprised except Ainsley who let out a laugh but quickly clamped a hand over her mouth to. James on the other hand simply nodded and got to his feet.

"Lead the way."

.

"SHE'S NOT GOING TO KILL James, Annie." Thomas insisted for the umpteenth time.

"They've been gone a really long time." The girl insisted, taking a sip from his ginger beer. Sharing food and drinks was a usual feat for them -though Thomas always had to ask first.

Lucie was quick to defend her foster sister, declaring, "Well I think he deserves it. It must have been so horrible for Cordelia to be left on the the dance floor like that."

Ainsley pointed to Lucie and sent Thomas a look as if the younger girl's words proved her theory. "Never leave a girl on the dance floor and expect to stay alive long after."

"Does that mean you're going to kill Matthew?" Thomas arched an eyebrow.

"No since he only left at my insistence but I intend to make him my slave for at least half a life."

"I see Cordelia is returning," Anna announced, preventing the conversion to continue though she was thoroughly amused by it. Everyone craned their head to look at her. "But without James. Interesting."

The brunette girl sent her parabatai yet another look when they saw that Cordelia was indeed alone. As she settled down on her horrid pastel skirts, Lucie turned to her expectantly. "Did James get what he deserved? Did you keelhaul him?"

"He is thoroughly abashed, I assure you. But we are good friends again." Cordelia smiled.

"Where is he, then?" Thomas questioned. He had rolled up his shirtsleeves with Ainsley's help at the hot summer air.

"Did you bury his body in the park somewhere?" Ainsley asked in a tone that was far too bright and excited for that question.

"He went to speak to Grace Blackthorn," the redhead shrugged.

"So, you didn't kill him." The Ashwood girl determined with a rationalising voice. "You just sent him to his death."

"Ainsley!" Thomas rolled his eyes scoldingly but anyone could see the fondness in his face and hear the love in his voice.

The girl pouted as Christopher handed her half of their fifth shared tart and furrowed his eyebrows. "I didn't realize she was here."

"She is," Everyone turned to see Matthew Fairchild appearing out of the colourful blankets and giant parasols. He took the seat where James previously sat between Ainsley and Christopher. "Apparently, Charles promised last night to bring her here in our carriage. We had to detour out to Chiswick to fetch her." He turned his haze to smile at the girl next to him. "Leo."

"Doofus." She grinned back in a teasing tone that earned chuckles from everyone. She then rhetorically remarked,"Isn't Charles engaged?" She swat away Matthew's hand that was trying to take her half of lemon tart. "Get your own, Fairchild."

"Last night it was Math, now it's Fairchild. Truly Leo, you wound me."

"Aww, honey." The girl pouted with fake sympathy. "I won't wound you if you keep your hands off my food."

Thomas shook his head at the girl's antics. How she ate as much as she did and stayed as slim and petite as she was, was beyond him. He looked at his blonde friend over head head and asked, "Did you get a look at Lightwood—at Chiswick House? I hear it's in utter disrepair."

"Grace was waiting for us at the front gates when we arrived. I did think it a bit odd."

"Why is it odd? Her mother's a recluse who hates our families." The half-Korean girl said as if that last statement explained everything -and it kind of did. "Besides, it's not much to look at, not-" she speedily added at all the raised eyebrows she was getting "- that I've snuck onto the grounds to explore when I couldn't sleep."

"We believe you." Matthew said in a tone that said that he clearly didn't and to be honest, it's not like Ainsley was being all that discreet about it.

But this was her family -plus Cordelia, who (let's face it) might as well be family- she knew that wouldn't say anything. 

Her gaze was taken to the dark clouds that were hovering over the lake, darkening the rippling surface on which Alastair, Marcus and an other boy were skipping stones.

"Huh," She heard Cordelia, "Looks like it might rain."

Matthew groaned throwing his head back. "Don't say that. My outfit is in no way made to withstand any downpour."

"You'll be fine, Math." The brunette girl rolled her black eyes.

He opened his mouth to quip back but never did when everyone turned to Lucie with concern and confusion at her hushed voice. "Cordelia, do you have Cortana?" She demanded.

"Yes, of course. Under the blanket." The redhead replied though she was completely mystified by why her friend was asking.

"Reach for it." The youngest girl ordered, getting to her feet. The others followed suit as Cordelia listened and drew her blade. Ainsley's hand went to grab the jingum out of the scabbard dissimulated in her blouse just as a demon broke out of the water

God, Ainsley Ashwood hated being right sometimes.

.

CHAOS BROKE OUT ON THE lake banks of Regent's Park in seconds.

The demon lurched itself at Piers Wentworth who thrashed and screamed in surprise and then pain. 

Ainsley spotted Alastair and her brother rush towards him as Rosamund tired to get the demon away from her brother. Shadowhunters ran everywhere and screamed, some in horror and others in surprise.

The girl could hear Charles' voice yelling for everyone to get away from the lake.

Ainsley Ashwood was never one to listen however and she especially wasn't one to listen to Charles Fairchild.

Her boot-clad feet stirred her towards the lake and consequently towards the danger. Thomas wasn't far behind her as they reached the waterside.

"Oppa." She breathed as she stooped at her brother's side. 

"He-joo." There was relief in his voice to see that his sister was alright.

Thomas continued until he was next to Piers, Rosamund screaming and crying and begging for her brother to stay strong. Ainsley might not have liked the girl but she felt her heart break. 

Without a word, the girl handed her blade to her brother and gathered the sobbing girl in her arms and held her tight. Ariadne and Anna had now joined them as well and were drawing iratzes while Thomas pressed his jacked against Piers' throat in an attempt to stop the blood flow but to no avail.

Rosamund just clung to Ainsley, neither girl caring that they hated each other. The Wentworth girl needed comfort and the Ashwood girl was good at giving it despite her reservation against the human race.

Scarlet seeped into the lake as the wind blew and leaves flew around them.

"This isn't working." Anna said, her blue eyes looking at Marcus and Ainsley with worry.

The only wounds that didn't heal with iratzes were wounds with demon poison. That increased Piers' chances of dying much higher up on the list if they couldn't get him help on time. 

But nothing else could be said when the group caught sight of them. Dozens -if not more- demons that ressembles curved shadows were coming out of the lake and it didn't take them long to attack.

They moved quietly but leaped with the intensity and violence of the hounds of hell.

Marcus threw his sister her blade back just in time for her to cut down one of them before it got one of its jaws into her or Rosamund.

"Get out of here." The girl ordered.

Rosamund protested. "My brother-"

"You can't help him if you're dead!" She grabbed a spare seraph blade and handed it to the other girl. "Take this and try to get help." The Wentworth girl looked conflicted but grabbed the blade, she turned to leave until Ainsley grabbed her wrist. "Run like hell, Rosamund."

With that she left the girl and went to cut down a demon that was behind her parabatai. Thomas turned around surprised but relief was evident in his hazel eyes at the sight of her.

"You got my back?" Ainsley let a half smile grace her lips. 

Thomas smiled back. "As long as you have mine."

The pair fought of the demons side by side. Their skin was a glistening onyx black contrasting with eyes that were like burning coal. Ainsley raised a leg to kick on of then while Thomas cut it down or the boy stabilised another with his bolas, allowing the girl to plunge her blade into it. They fought with precise and practiced moves as if it was less a fight and rather a deadly dance with death. 

The other Nephilim were around them, fighting of their own hordes of demons but any trained Shadowhunter could notice that their reflexes were slow and their moves were more sluggish then they ought to be. It had been so long since they had seen an actual demon that no one had anticipated that something might happen. And why would they when life had been as quiet as it had been over the past year? Not to mention it was day time and none of them were aware that there might be demons who hunt the sunny plains instead of lurking in the nocturnal shadows.

But that didn't change the fact that demons were striving down on the angel blooded warriors with all their might.

Ainsley let out a grunt as her blade cut down another demon who withered back to the shadows in a spray of ichor. It wasn't that she wasn't used to fighting demons, she was. Things might have been quiet but there were still a couple of stray demons who apparently didn't get the memo that London wasn't the place hang out anymore. 

But she wasn't used to fighting this many demons at once. The brunette would cut one down, two more would pounce back like a Hydra and its nine heads. She knew she could hold for hours due to all the training she endures to try and live up to the legacy left by her parents, but others didn't train nearly as hard or as long as her. 

She heard a scream and turned to see Ariadne Bridgestock thrash and kick to try and get out of the hold of a demon that behaved akin to a rabid dog pulling her body over the grass, her dress a mix of blood and sand and now green grass stains were being added to that mix. She ran in her direction joining Anna who was completely disheveled. Anna was the first there and managed to plunge the knife into the beast making it fade away after spraying ichor onto the ground.

Thomas, Lucie, Matthew and Barbara joined the duo of dark haired women, all of them forming a sort of protective circle to ward the demons away from Ariadne's still body but were still quite a distance apart from one another.

Ainsley caught sight of Cordelia spinning Cortana in a wide arc and behead a demon that was creeping up on Marcus and Alastair who were side by side.

All eyes however snapped to the lake when a loud scream broke through the air. Ainsley tired to hold back but she couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes, "Raziel, will that girl ever listen?" She muttered under her breathe at seeing that Rosamund Wentworth hadn't listened to her and was back at her brother's side, a demon in front of her.

Luckily for her, James Herondale was an agile fighter and easily pounced onto the demon's back before letting his glowing seraph blade plunge into its neck. It disappeared in a shower of ichor.

His golden eyes met hers as he began racing towards the group she was in.

That was when the heard another cry, this time the voice much more familiar and close to home.

Barbara Lightwood crumpled to the ground, demon clawing and biting at her leg after knocking Oliver away.

James lunged at it, slamming it off his cousin and the two rolled for quite a while. That was when Matthew flipped into the air and let his boot collide with the demon, forcing it to release his parabatai. Said parabatai wasted no time in finishing the shadowy beat with a swiftly thrown dagger.

It was still after that. No one spoke other then the wind who whispered into the air almost as though it was mocking the young warriors.

Ainsley had envisioned a lot of ways that the day could have been ruined but her imagination had never come up with anything nearly as disastrous as the events that had just happened.

Her blouse and skirt were torn and bloodstained with scarlet and black. Her face held a fine cut much like her arms. Ainsley's brown locks had escaped the confines of her brother's carefully twisted bun, only to plaits on either side of her face remained untouched. Her arms were heavy as she swayed a little, her jingum clattering to the ground and all the energy leaving her body.

"Woah." A familiar voice breathed into her ear as two strong arms caught her. 

Ainsley let herself burrow into Matthew's chest as his arms encircled her as though he wished to protect her from all the horrors of the world. "You're okay, Ainsley."

It had been so long that he hadn't called her by her given name that Ainsley almost smiled at the way it rolled of his tongue. That paired with the beating of his heart -which was probably beating as hard as it was due to left over adrenaline- was enough to make her relax just a little. She lifted her black orbs up to inspect him and saw that he too was disheveled, bruised and bloody. But somehow he still looked as handsome as ever, if not more.

The half-Korean managed to tear her eyes away from his green ones that looked more a mossy colour then their usual forest green.

Her gaze took in the ruin the demons had left in their wake. The grass was scorched by ichor and the picnic hampers and blankets lay in shreds and forgotten by all. Everyone was a little more focused on three fallen angels.  
Thomas was carrying his older rushing her to his carriage, Oliver on his heels. Ariadne was placed on Anna's lap as Charles rushed over and Rosamund was still sobbing at her brother's side.

Ainsley's eyes watched the scene in front of her, hurt and worried. But her whole body went taut when her eyes fell on a grey suit jacket and slumped figure next to it.

All the energy rushed back into her veins as she pushed away from Matthew and rushed over, the blonde following after her.

It was a good thing he had for otherwise Ainsley Leonie Ashwood would have fallen straight to ground with a startled sob.

Because before her laid the pale, unconscious and bloodstained body of her older brother, Marcus Gideon Ashwood.

.

A/N  
Yes, I am a witch! I accept it, I embrace it. But other then that tragic and heartbreaking ending, I do hope that you all enjoyed this update and will hopefully come to forgive me 😬  
I send lots of love, my dears and hope you don't hate me too much.

.


	7. VI.

.

FALLEN WITH THE NIGHT

The gas-lamps gleam in a golden line;  
The ruby lights of the hansoms shine,  
Glance, and flicker like fire-flies bright;  
The wind has fallen with the night,  
And once again the town seems fair  
Thwart the mist that hangs i' the air.

—Amy Levy, "A March Day in London"

.

AINSLEY ASHWOOD HADN'T CRIED IN seven years. 

Even when she was younger, crying was a rare deed for her. There were only two events in her life where she recalled having really cried. And even those were spaced three years apart. 

The first was at her parents' untimely and tragic death in the cold and frost covered streets of Seoul in December of 1893.   
After hearing the news, she had managed to escape into her room before breaking down. Tessa had arrived and gathered her up in her arms, letting the seven-year old cling to her. Tessa's hold was so gentle and motherly that Ainsley had half expected to see her mother's face when she looked up. But Ji-a wasn't there and she was never coming back, that realisation had racked another round of sobs from the girl.

The second was at Rosamund Wentworth's tenth birthday, the time her and Catherine had thought it would be funny to lock Ainsley in a closet. At first, half-Korean had thought it was ridiculous but played along. She wanted to make friends and be liked, so when they asked her to go in she accepted in an attempt to please them. It was only when she heard the muted chatter of the two girls fade away that she realized that they weren't going to let her out. Ainsley had tapped on the door with an open palm, she screamed, she hit the door and screamed at the same time but no one came. She had sat in the dark, hands and knuckles bloody, completely drained and unable to stop the tears at the thought of never getting out of that small closet.

Both times she had felt utterly helpless, she had felt powerless and she had hated every moment of it.

Ainsley had promised herself that she would never let herself feel that way again. And it worked. She grew a thick skin and built up walls so high that one could see them from space.

But one thing that always made them tumble to the ground was her brother. One thing that scrapped away the strong, confident and sarcastic young woman Ainsley was growing up to be and turned her back to the sweet, trusting and always smiling little girl of the past was Marcus Ashwood.

As her and Thomas' carriage rolled into the Institute with their respective wounded siblings, the familiar motto on the archway never felt more true.

Pluvis et umbra sumus. We are dust and shadows.

Everything was a blur as Thomas managed to guide Ainsley to the infirmary of the Institute. He sat her down at her brother's bedside, stroking her hair out of her face.

"Ainsley." The girl's puffy black eyes met Thomas as he was kneeled in front of her.

"Go be your sister, Thomas. I'll be fine."

The boy obviously hesitated, he could tell that she wasn't alright. This was hitting his parabatai even harder then it was hitting him, but eventually got up and left to sit at his sister's side on the bed in front of Marcus'.

Ainsley could hear the bustling behind her, she could hear people whispering and talking. But all it was, was white noise. Nothing registered in her brain. Her thoughts were solely on her brother. Her dear, sweet and kind older brother.

"Annie." The girl turned her head slightly, seeing James standing there.

He came to take place next to her. The boy took her hand that wasn't gripping onto Marcus' slack fingers like they were a life line and squeezed it. He was doing his best to comfort her.

Tears didn't stop rolling down Ainsley cheeks. At first she'd wiped them away but gave up when she realised that they would just get replaced by new ones.

Ainsley. Both teenagers turned when they heard the voice echo in their minds and saw Brother Zachariah.

There was a brief moment of relief for Ainsley as she breathed. "Uncle Jem." 

The man may have been a Silent Brother but he wasn't a normal one. Because of the circumstances of his entry into the Brotherhood he still felt a close connection to the people of his youth and their descendants, namely Ainsley Ashwood and James Herondale.

He didn't say anything else before beginning to tend to the unconscious boy, the son of a man who had been his best friend. The son of a man he had loved. James stayed with Ainsley the whole time holding her hand.

To be honest, Ainsley wasn't really present. Her mind was in shambles and a part of her was convinced that this was all a bad dream and that she would soon wake up to her brother's smiling face. It was like she and what was happening had a glass door between them and she didn't want to open it and face reality. She wanted to stay behind it, in the safety of her mind where Marcus was completely alright.

"Annie? Love?" Ainsley blinked her eyes at the new voice calling her name. Whenever someone addressed her it seemed to make the door shatter. She would be brought back to the harsh actuality that her brother was currently on his death bed.

When her eyes focused, they met a pair of green ones that were gazing at her with so much fatherly concern. "Uncle Gabriel." The girl managed to choke out. She looked around her to see that James had disappeared, probably to help the other wounded. Her eyes fell back on her uncle's worried face as he was crouched in front of her, exactly as Thomas had been before she urged him to go to his sister. "Wh-what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with Uncle Gideon?"

"Uncle Gideon has plenty of people with him." He stated, taking the seat James had previously occupied.

Ainsley wasn't expecting that. Her family was close, all of them but she had always felt like an outsider in a way. She loved them and she knew that they loved her but she had never actually thought that Gabriel would come and comfort her instead of staying with his brother. 

"Oh sweetheart." He saw the practically broken look on the face of the girl he saw as a niece and pulled her into his chest.

At that all control Ainsley had broke. She started sobbing in her uncle's arms. Gabriel held her close as she clung to him, gripped his shirt in her fists. "I can't lose him." She cried, her voice muffled as Gabriel stroked her hair.

"I know." His voice was faraway and sad as if he was remembering a sad memory. He held the girl to him, making sure she knew he was here. 

Ainsley cried all the tears she had inside of her. She cried for Marcus, she cried for Barbara, she cried for Ariadne, she even cried for Piers. Her weeps went to Thomas and his family and to everyone else who was dealing with the same pain and worry that she was until finally she had no more tears left to cry.

Gabriel didn't say anything, he let her cry and even after the salt water had stopped staining his shirt and her shoulders had stopped trembling, he just held her until she was ready to pull away.

"Sorry," Ainsley looked up at her uncle who wiped away a couple of stray tears that still rolled down her cheeks, her hand staying there. His green eyes held nothing but affection and kindness. "I ruined your shirt."

"You never have to apologise for crying, Annie. We might be born with a heavenly mandate to protect Mundanes but we are still human."

"I love you, Uncle Gabriel. You do know that, right?"

The man managed a sad smile at the words that came out of Ainsley's mouth in a small and cracked voice, a far cry from her usual confidence and bright articulation. "I do. And I love you." His eyes fell to Marcus who was completely still, save for the rise and fall of his chest. "You're not alone, Ainsley. We're all here for you."

She was grateful that he didn't say something about Marcus getting better. You could never know what will happen and the thought of holding onto false hope like that killed her. And Gabriel knew that the last thing she needed was an empty promise.

"I think I'm going to get some air." 

Gabriel nodded, placing a gentle kiss in her hair before Ainsley got to her feet and left the room with a shaky sigh. She let her feet guide her. She didn't pay attention to where she was headed, her mind too crowded with worry and overwhelming dread for that. But she somehow ended up towards the music room.

The same music room where Marcus would play the cello when it took his fancy. The same music room in which Will Herondale had placed James Carstairs' violin and Scott Ashwood's viola on display in memory of his best friends. And currently, the same music room in front of which Thomas Lightwood and James Herondale were standing, speaking to each other in hushed tones. 

Ainsley's feet moved themselves as she started running towards the two boys. The turned just in time for her to launch herself at Thomas and hug him. The boy, though startled at first -and who could blame him with the way he was basically attacked by the embrace?- quickly wrapped his arms around the girl.

He was the only one who could really understand what she was was going through and that added with their parabatai bond just made the pair cling to each other harder. 

They didn't let each other go for quite some time until Ainsley raised her head from the boy's chest and placed a hand on his cheek. It was a silent way of telling him that she was there for him. Thomas managed a small smile and swept down to kiss her hairline, his arm over her shoulders.

"How are you doing?" James asked her.

Ainsley shrugged. "As good as I can, I guess." Lies. "I came to get some air and I find you two whispering away. What's going on?"

"We need to round up Matthew and Christopher," James explained. "I have an idea of something we can do to try and figure out what's happening with Barbara and Marcus."

Ainsley felt a small jolt chorus through her. It might not work but it was something and the last thing she could do was sit around and wallow. She needed to do something. 

"Christopher has just returned from Chiswick," Thomas said. "I saw him in the entry hall. But as for Matthew..."

Ainsley sighed, knowing the boy well enough to take a wild guess as to where he was and what he was doing. "I think I know where he is."

.

AINSLEY HAD BEEN CORRECT IN assuming that Matthew was getting drunk in one of the many carriages that lined the courtyard of the London Institute.

She could hear his muffled voice singing when she reached the Baybrook family's carriage, her hands shakily opened the door to find Matthew with his head tilted back and his eyes closed. His flask was out and in his hand.

Oh Matthew. Why do you do this to yourself?

"Leo?" His green eyes were looking at her now. The boy seemed to be more alert, straightening up into an upright position from where we was previously slumped. "Did something happ-"

"Why didn't you come in?" The words left her lips suddenly, without asking her for permission. 

She shouldn't have, now was most definitely not the time for it but her chest felt as though it was collapsing into itself. A part of her had wished for Matthew to have come into the Institute. It had wished for him to stay by her side.

The boy blinked. "What?"

"Why didn't you come into to Institute?" Her voice didn't betray any of the thoughts spinning in her mind. Why didn't you come into the Institute with me? Why did you decide to get drunk instead of being with me? When Thomas and I needed you? 

"Why did you stay out here?"

Matthew moved his eyes away, down to his hands. "I don't like illness." 

She had a feeling that there was much more to the story but right now wasn't the time for her to inquire about it. Ainsley had been tasked with finding the blonde and bringing him to the ballroom. And that was exactly what she intended on doing.

So the half-Korean held out her hand. "Come on. Jamie says he has an idea about something that could help Marcus and Barbara."

Matthew looked at it before grabbing a hold and letting the girl pull him out of the carriage. He fell onto the cobblestones as sure footed as a cat but Ainsley could see that he was positively foxed with one look into his forest eyes that blinked in the sparkling moonlight.

She guided him towards the ballroom where the rest of the Merry Thieves already laid in wait for the pair until they entered.

As the door closed, James announced, "We must bar the doors. They don't lock, and we can't be interrupted." He watched as Ainsley lead his parabatai to an upholstered chair. "Matthew, can you stand?"

Ainsley took of the jacket she had shrugged on before heading outside to find Matthew where she could feel the cool London breeze which was completely opposite to the stuffy heat that made its home in the ballroom. She threw it down to the ground next to the jackets Thomas, Christopher and James had discarded in her absence, leaving them in shirtsleeves with weapons belts strapped around their waists.

Matthew though sat weaponless -unless you counted his flask which he could fling at a potential attacker though it probably wouldn't be very helpful. His hair was tousled as though he'd passed his hand through it multiple times and his cheeks flushed red from the heat of alcohol as he sat up straighter and dismissively waved his hand. "I am quite all right. Please continue with your plan." He paused a second before prompting, "What was your plan?"

"I'll tell you in a moment," James dismissed. "Thomas?"

The tall boy nodded and moved to grab one of the many side tables and push it in front of the ballroom's large doors. Ainsley had her arms crossed over her stomach, her black eyes gazing at her parabatai when the smell of alcohol hit her nostrils. 

She turned her head to see Matthew untwisting the cap of his flask. It was halfway to his mouth when the girl got down the her knees, her hand placed on Matthew's. "Please don't." She begged in a hushed tone. Her voice and eyes were both overflowing with worry and pleading.

Matthew stopped right there. In all the time since Matthew had become hooked to the bottle, Ainsley had rarely asked him to stop -mostly because she realized that it was pointless, why waste her breath on something she knew wouldn't work? Begging never even entered the conversation. There had definitely been many disapproving and worried glances but never words this desperate. 

So for once, the blonde wordlessly turned his eyes away and recapped the flask. He placed it in the pocket of the jacket he had taken off from his lean frame before tossing it to the ground.

The girl managed a weak smile before turning so that her back was resting against Matthew's legs, his hands finding their way into her hair and playing with the loose dark coils of Ainsley's hair. 

"Perhaps some water?" Christopher suggested, his lavender eyes resting on his blonde friend.

"I'm quite all right," Matthew huffed.

A soft whine of complaint left the back of his throat when Ainsley moved away and turned to look at him, his slim and scarred fingers no longer having access to her soft hair. "I found you drinking from your flask and singing 'Elsie from Chelsea' in the Baybrooks' carriage, Matthew," she stated, her voice as hard as steel and a look in her eyes that said Take the water.

"It was private there," the Consul's second son retorted instead, an air of defiance radiating from him. "And well-upholstered."

"At least it wasn't the Bridgestocks' carriage, because they have already experienced enough tragedy today." Christopher commented in an earnest tone. "Nothing bad has happened to the Baybrooks."

"Nothing until now." Ainsley muttered earning a playful glare from the blonde boy. She weakly but teasingly smiled at him, to which he couldn't help but return it with his beautiful smile that shone like the sun.

"Christopher—was everything all right, dropping off Miss Blackthorn?"

Ainsley's gaze turned away from Matthew when James spoke those words. Matthew's green eyes lingered a little. He then registered James' words and turned as well, both of them looking at the Herondale boy with a raised eyebrow.

The lavender-eyed Lightwood didn't seem to hear the tone in James' voice as he casually replied, "Oh, perfectly. I told her all about culturing bacteria, and she was so fascinated that she never spoke a word!"

Oh Kit. Ainsley smiled sadly at the boy's naivety as she settled back against Matthew -his hands eagerly dived back into her hair and began playing with them. She found this side to Christopher extremely endearing but also very worrying. She'd hate for him to get hurt because of this.

"Did you have to tell Mrs. Blackthorn what had happened at the park?"

"She can't have been pleased." The half-Korean interjected to her foster brother's question, her mind flashing back to Regent's Park and consequently of her brother's pale and sickly frame sprawled across the ground.

"I confess I didn't see her." Christopher shook his head. "Miss Blackthorn asked that I drop her at the gates, not the front door."

"She probably doesn't want anyone to see the state of the place. The gates alone are festooned in rust." A yawn left Matthew one of his hands leaving the comfort of the Ashwood girl's dark locks to politely rest on his mouth.

James was gazing at him with slight worry. His gold eyes flickered down to his foster sister to who he sighed. "Ainsley, do you mind maybe giving him a healing rune?"

Ainsley remembered when James had come banging on her door in excitement. His face had been beaming as he explained to her his discovery of how using iratzes sobered Matthew right up. There was still some lingering effects of the alcohol but it was definitely better then without the healing rune. It was a trick the group had adopted quite happily and used quite often, much to their dismay.

The girl nodded and fought against her skirts to get to her feet while Matthew protested again. She moved to sit on the arm of the boy's chair. 

"Matthew. Can you please push your sleeve up?" The boy narrowed his eyes at her for having moved but held out his arm, the pale flesh covered with small white scars, mapping out all the way over his body. They wrote their own story, intertwining white lines that showed the previous marks that had graced Matthew Fairchild's frame. "Thank you, nae sarang."

A pair of hazel eyes snapped in her direction. 

Thomas had asked his parabatai to teach him Korean when it was just the two of them at the Academy. He was fluent in the language at this point. So he knew exactly the meaning of two small words she'd pronounced in her mother's tongue. Ainsley ducked her head down and away from him, suddenly very grateful that she hadn't pulled her hair back up since they acted as a curtain that hid her red face. 

But Matthew could see her face clear as day. His green eyes studied her face while her hand steadily traced a rune she had used far too many times that day. 

"There." Her face tilted up to look at Matthew when she was finished. Only then did Ainsley notice just how close they were. Her mind raced back to the memory of the night they encountered the Deumas demon and what had occurred when they were alone in their little room at the Devil Tavern. 

Ainsley reddened even more if that was possible.

Thankfully, James decided to move things along. He moved from the threshold he had been blocking with chairs towards the windows that lined the wall. "We'd better check the locks on all the windows. Just to be sure."

Ainsley furrowed her eyebrows and turned her face away from the blonde to inspect his his hurrying figure move around as Matthew mused, "It seems somehow blasphemous to use Marks to rid oneself of the effects of alcohol," Her black eyes moved back to the boy's wrist which still laid in her lap. The new Mark was stark black on Matthew's skin, gleaming on the toned muscle of his forearm. 

His voice sounded less sluggish and his eyes looked much clearer as James turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "I've seen you use your stele to part your hair," he remarked before continuing his self-appointed task.

"The Angel gave me this hair," the boy's hand gestured towards his golden curls with a flourish. "It's one of the Shadowhunters' gifts. Like the Mortal Sword."

"Now that is blasphemy," Thomas and Ainsley asserted in perfect union. Despite the situation they managed to send each other fond smiles while Christopher went to help James check the windows.

"A thing of beauty is a joy forever," claimed Matthew before turning a playful smirk onto the girl right next to him. "Wouldn't you agree, Leo?"

"James, do you mind explaining why are we locking all the windows?" Ainsley quickly squeaked avoiding looking at the boy right next to her as she got to her feet and crossed her arms, her cheeks completely on fire. "I doubt any of the birds outside will be overly interested in what we're doing." 

James slammed a last bolt before turning to look at their curious faces. "I have spent the past four years of my life trying to train myself not to do what I'm about to do. I don't wish to even consider the possibility of being interrupted."

"By what? An over-curious pigeon?" Matthew's words might have been mocking but his voice anything but.

"Jamie, what are we doing here?" Ainsley tilted her head to the side with an exhale.

James looked slightly terrified before he too sighed and declared. "I am going to deliberately send myself into the shadow realm,"

At that all of the Herondale boy's companions objected with varying tones of intensity. Matthew had jumped to his feet, his green eyes ablaze. "Certainly not. The danger—"

"I do not think there will be danger." 

"You don't know that!" The brunette girl exclaimed. 

"I have been in and out of the shadow realm many times in my life." James expressed. "It has been ages since I fell accidentally into that world. Yet in the past week, I have seen it three times, once just before the attack today. I cannot think that is a coincidence. If I can use this ability to help Barbara, Marcus, Ariadne, all of us—you must let me do it."

One of Ainsley's hands moved so that it rested on her hip, the other one tugging through her hair in frustration as she scoffed and turned to face away from her foster brother. This was unbelievable. 

"Bloody hell." She could hear Matthew. "If we don't help you here, you'll just try to do this after we're all gone, won't you?"

"Clearly," James confirmed. "I'm armed, at least."

"Very well, James. As you wish."

Ainsley snapped back around. "No!" All boys turned to her as she frowned. "I can't believe we're even questioning this! It's too dangerous."

"Ainsley, I have to do something."

"Not this."

"It could help Marcus!"

"I can't lose you too!" The girl exploded as her eyes let a couple desperate tears leak out of her eyes like water bleeding from a dam hole. 

All of the Merry Thieves looked at her bewildered. They had never seen her cry. They had never seen her lose her composure. They'd never seen past the wall Ainsley permanently kept up, not even Thomas, her parabatai. But in that moment, all four boys could see that this incident was breaking her more then she cared to admit.

She let out a shaky breath, trying to wipe away her tears. Her voice cracked as she spoke, making it painfully clear that she was trying not to cry. "I already have one brother on his death bed. I cannot lose the other one too." Ainsley shook her head. "I just can't."

James strode over to her, gathering his foster sister in his arms as her head rested on his chest, her arms around his waist as she held him tightly. "I'm right here, Annie. I'll be alright."

"I'm already terrified of losing him, I don't think I'll be able to deal with losing you too."

James pulled away slightly and cupped his foster sister's cheeks, his head ducked down as his golden eyes into her obsidian ones. "I will come back, Annie. You can't get rid of me that easily."

Despite his attempt to try and calm her down, Ainsley looked at him pointedly. "Don't make a promise you're not sure you'll be able to keep, Jamie."

"I plan on keeping this one. But, I need you to be okay with this. I can't do this without you Ainsley."

The girl sighed, getting on the tips of her toes so she could lean her forehead up against his with closed eyes. "You promise to come back?"

"I promise."

"Alright." Ainsley swept at her cheeks, trying to get rid of the tears. She'd cried more in that one day then in the entirety of her life combined -okay, that's an exaggeration, but you get what I'm saying. "Alright I'll help."

James smiled at her as they approached the three other boys who had been watching the scene with sad eyes. Ainsley crossed her arms over her chest and stood next to Thomas, leaning into him. The tall boy wrapped an arm around her shoulders, letting his parabatai lean her weight against him.

"All right. Let's get on with it."

Everyone looked at James, hazel, green, lavender and black eyes all holding concern, apprehension and expectation.

"Well?" Thomas finally spoke in the silence. "Go on into the shadow realm, then."

James nodded, closing his eyes and concentrating. When nothing happened, Matthew moved extremely close to his parabatai, staring at him. That was what earned a loud, "Matthew!" out of the Herondale boy who'd jumped in fear.

"I really don't think staring at him is going to help, Math," remarked Ainsley, still stuck at Thomas' side. He bashfully took a step back.

"Jamie, is there anything that might help you begin the process?" Thomas struggled to find his words. "We've all seen you do it.... You start to get shadowy, and turn a bit blurry around the edges."

"When I go into the shadow realm, the realness of my presence here begins to fade," James began explaining though there was something about his tone that made Ainsley suspect that he was hiding something. "But it is not what drives me into the shadow realm. More of a side effect of being there."

"Often it happens when you are upset or shocked," supplied Christopher. "I suppose we could try upsetting or shocking you."

"Do you honestly think we can find something that'll upset him more given everything that's happened?" The half-Korean girl raised an eyebrow. "His foster brother's dying on a hospital bed and he just dealt with his foster sister's emotional breakdown. I don't know if you can get more upsetting then that."

"Yeah but that's not shocking per say," Matthew jumped onto a nearby table that wobbled but stayed upright. "And the last time I saw you shocked was when that Iblis demon was sending Christopher love letters."

Surprisingly a soft giggle left Ainsley. "I'd forgotten about that."

"I have a dark charm," said Christopher sadly.

"Oh hush, Kit. Any girl would lucky to have you. You're amazing." Ainsley smiled at him as widely as she could manage in her current state. She was thankful for the distraction but her mind was still playing the battle from the park like a broken record.

When the bespectacled boy smiled back, the Ashwood girl held her arm out for him to join her and Thomas. Christopher happily obliged, easily wrapping an arm around her small waist and letting the girl rest her head against his shoulder after she'd let go of Thomas.

Christopher Lightwood had a hard time when it came to girls. Ainsley thought it was ridiculous because the boy was very handsome and had some of the most beautiful eyes she has ever seen. But his shy demeanour and interest in science scared the girls away. Ainsley always tried to make sure he knew that he was appreciated and that she thought he was very handsome. It made so that eventually he became comfortable holding her around her waist, hugging her and letting her peck his cheek.

Matthew smiled fondly before turning to James and speaking as a parent, wagging his finger at the boy, "Please recall that I am the pale neurasthenic one and you are the stern heroic one. It is very tedious when you mix up our roles. We will have to think of something quite impressive to startle you."

"So what is my role?" Christopher asked.

"Mad inventor, of course," Matthew replied straight away. "And Thomas is the one with a good heart."

"What about me?" Ainsley pouted cutely.

"Do you even have to ask?" Matthew was looking at her with that unidentifiable something in his eyes. He seemed to realise it too and shook his head before fondly saying, "You're the detective."

Ainsley let a smile light her face at that. The detective of the group. She liked it. 

Thomas however didn't seem to feel the same about his title as he commented, "Lord, I sound dull," before exhaling and turning to the black haired boy. "Look, James, come here for a second."

Everyone watched as James approached the boy. It was amazing how much Thomas shared a likeness to his mother at times, his face holding the same hazel eyes and determined mouth.

Out of nowhere James hit the floor, the air knocked out of his lungs from a solid punch to his solar plexus. 

Ainsley and Christopher let go of each other, the former rushing closer while the latter stood frozen there. Matthew had dropped down to his parabatai's side as the Herondale panted propped up on his elbows.

"Thomas!" Matthew yelled. "What were you trying to—?"

"I was trying to surprise him!" Thomas yelled back. "This is important, Matthew!" 

Ainsley took his hand and squeezed it in comfort before turning to the blonde. "I'm not the only one with a sibling in the infirmary," she reminded.

It was easy to forget that Thomas was going through the same thing as Ainsley since he was handling the situation so much better then she was. This was the first real anxiety that Thomas had shown.

Even now he was worried and apologetic towards James. "You don't mind, do you, Jamie?"

"It's all right," James waved him of as his voice came out breathlessly. "Only it didn't work. If I turned into a shadow every time something hit me, I couldn't patrol."

Ainsley grimaced at the thought. That would be rather dreadful for James. 

Matthew held his hand out to the fallen boy after getting to his feet with agility similar to a fox. It didn't last long however since Matthew had knocked him back onto the ground when an arrow narrowly missed James' head. Ainsley and Thomas had both ducked down at the sound of shattering glass with a startled yelp from the girl.

They both turned with wide eyes to see Christopher Lightwood gripping one of the bows that was used as decor. 

"In case anyone was wondering if those were purely ornamental," James got to his feet, "they are not."

"I told Aunt Tessa not to let Uncle Will put real weapons in here," Ainsley grumbled. "But for anyone listen to me? Nooooooo."

Matthew got back to his feet as second later, his eyes as big as saucers. "In the name of a million bloody angels, Christopher, what the hell did you just do? Did you try to kill James?"

As Christopher lowered the bow, Ainsley was almost certain she heard running feet and slamming doors. With look at James and they both knew they were screwed.

"I was not trying to kill James," Christopher sounded offended and sad that anyone might even suggest such a thing. "I was hoping the shock of the arrow flying past would startle him into the shadow realm. Pity it didn't work. We must think of a new plan to grievously alarm James at once."

"Christopher!" James exclaimed. "I cannot believe you would say that! I also cannot believe you would shoot at me."

"It had a seventy-two percent chance of working, in perfect laboratory conditions—"

"We are not in perfect laboratory conditions!" James shouted. "We are in the ballroom of my house!"

"Hey, yelling won't solve anything!" Ainsley called, making the boys turn to her with raised eyebrows since she had also technically elevated her voice. She cleared her throat. "Kit didn't mean to hurt you, he was trying to help. Though it definitely wasn't the best way to go about the situation, there's no need to yell. We're all frustrated." The brunette girl spoke much more calmly.

That was when the doors shook and Will's voice echoed through. "What's going on? Ainsley, James, are you in there?"

"Bloody hell." The two teenagers in question swore while the boy continued. 

"My father," he swept his gaze around the room and then ordered. "Look, all of you—get out through the windows. Well, the broken one anyway. I'll take the blame. I'll say I shot the window out."

"In the ballroom?" Thomas questioned. "Why would you do such a rattle-headed thing?"

Ainsley who knew that James was perfectly capable of shooting out a window in the ballroom, shrugged. "He's James Herondale."

"I'm capable of anything!" James agreed while trying to grab the bow from Christopher. The bespectacled boy just ducked and ran behind Thomas who made an excellent human shield since his return from Spain."Come on, Kit, give it over—"

"He's going to say, 'Because I'm a Herondale,' isn't he?" Thomas rolled his hazel eyes.

"Well he kind of is," Ainsley noticed the look Thomas was sending her and nodded. "Riiiiight, I'm supposed to be on your side."

Will's knocking was becoming more and more insistent. It made James turned to all his companions with an annoyed and almost savage glare as he declared, "I am a Herondale. And I am telling you to get out of my Institute so the only one who gets punished here is me."

Ainsley shot him a deadpan look. "Where am I supposed to go, you bloody bampot? I also live here."

"Answer me, James! Or Ainsley!" Will called through the door, sounding angry -which he was because he only ever called her Ainsley when he was serious or angry. "Why have you blocked this door? I demand to know what's going on!"

"James isn't here!" Matthew raised his voice. "Go away!"

James and Ainsley shot the boy a look as if they'd forgotten why they were friends with him. "Really?" They deadpanned together.

"I heard breaking glass!"

"I was practicing fighting moves!"

"In the ballroom?"

There was honestly something comedic about the expressions that were gracing the Ashwood girl's face as listening to the exchange. 

"We're trying to distract Leo! It's been a very emotional day!" Matthew called earning a slap on the shoulder and wide-eyed look from the girl in question.

"What?" Will sounded incredibly skeptical.

"Don't you blame this on me!" Ainsley hit his shoulder a couple more times before also raising her voice. "It's true Uncle Will. Thomas and I are rather devastated." The older Lightwood boy looked at his parabatai with betrayed eyes as she beamed back. "I go down, so do you. 'Whither thou goest, I will go', remember?"

He sent her a glare but her attention and everyone else's was shifted to Matthew speaking to his parabatai, his hands on James' shoulders. "James. If you're going to do this, you need to do it now." His gaze was serious it so seldom was.

"I know," James helplessly gazed at the boy. "Math—help me."

It was uncommon for James to call Matthew like that. It used to be a nickname used by everyone at the London Institute at a time but the Ashwood siblings were the only ones that referred to the boy that way now. 

So for James to be calling Matthew by his old nickname showed that he was truly at a loss. 

Ainsley couldn't hear what Matthew was saying. He was speaking so lowly that all she could make out was the deep tone of his voice that made her stomach to backflips.

Ainsley blinked and cursed herself. Now was not the time to be marvelling over Matthew's voice.

James stumbled away from his parabatai, mild horror in his eyes. Matthew though had gone as white as Jessamine as he stammered, "James, I didn't mean it—"

But he was going.

The teenagers all stood in the ballroom which was quiet save for Will Herondale knocking and shouting for one of them to open the door. But none of the remaining four were focused on that. 

Ainsley came to wrap an arm around a crestfallen Matthew who's green eyes were glued to the place his parabatai had been stood mumbling one thing.

"I didn't mean it."

.

A/N  
This chapter turned out longer then I expected it to. The beginning was a bit of a filler I'll admit 😬 and I apologise for that and what I'm doing to my baby Marcus Ashwood. I really do love him and Ainsley, guys.  
But the ballroom scene, my god I love it so much. Just the chaos of it, I love it so much and it was fun to write 😁  
Anywho, I do hope that you enjoyed this chapter!

.


	8. VII.

.

FALL OF SONGS

Bright is the ring of words  
When the right man rings them,  
Fair the fall of songs  
When the singer sings them.

—Robert Louis Stevenson, "Bright Is the Ring of Words"

.

AINSLEY WAS GOING TO KILL James Herondale. 

That was a new feeling. There had many times where she had wanted to badly maim the boy, but killing had never even entered the conversation. Not until that day when it casually walked in as if it visited her brain regularly.

After James disappeared and the remaining Merry Thieves and their Maid Marian had opened the ballroom door, Will let out all his frustration on the quartet through seemingly endless yelling in Welsh. He then sighed and told them to go, absolutely exhausted when the Enclave managed to track the missing boy down to Chiswick House, the residence of the Blackthorn women -something dark and dangerous happening there didn't really come as a shock to Ainsley.

While the boys had left, Ainsley remained and hugged her Uncle. "I'm sorry." She muffled against his chest.

Will wrapped an around around her tightly. "You were only trying to help," the man sighed, his chin resting on his foster daughter's head. "Annie, please be careful."

Ainsley squeezed him tighter. She understood the underlying message in his words. 

That night she didn't sleep a wink until she snuck into Thomas' room around three in the morning, worry for both her brothers plaguing her never resting mind. She was grateful that the Lightwood boys had stayed back. Though the reason for it wasn't the best, it felt nice to have them here since James was nowhere in sight.

But the reason Ainsley wanted to kill the boy is that James Herondale had returned to the Institute and left again without even thinking to let his foster sister know.

As the late afternoon sun shone down over London, Ainsley was angrily stomping towards the Consul's house with Thomas and Christopher nervously trailing behind her. Her teal dress swished behind her, her mouth set in a scowl and her hair braided out of her sight which left her narrowed black eyes clear for the world to see.

She was quite simply terrifying.

"Annie," Thomas tentatively said as they grew closer to door. "I know you're angry-" he shrunk back when the girl whipped her cold gaze onto him "- okay, you're furious. But can you promise to at least give James a chance to explain himself first?"

"I will make no such promise."

Ainsley was a firm believer that promises were meant to be upheld. One shouldn't make a promise and break it as though it were glass. Marriages destroyed by an unfaithful spouse were a clear example of what a broken promise could do and the destruction they could bring. It was the reason she rarely ever promised anything to anyone, out of fear to not be able to live up to it.

And here she was absolutely certain she would break the one Thomas was asking of her.

The trio approached the door, Ainsley knocking on it incessantly until it swung open to reveal Henry Fairchild. The man smiled at the sight of the three teenagers making Ainsley cold front melt. 

God, she hated that Fairchild smile and what it did to her.

"Hello, Henry." 

"Annie." His eyes moved to the Lightwood cousins who smiled at him. "Christopher, Thomas. Come on in."

Henry's chair rolled away from the door. It was fitted with many inventions such as a light over his shoulder, a claw to grab things of high shelves, the bookshelf under his seat and many others. She remembered Christopher showing up in at the Devil Tavern covered in soot grinning happily as he would happily rattle of all the things he and Henry had made. Some of their inventions were incredible like the elevator that ran on steam which allowed Henry to easily go down to his laboratory in the basement. Others Ainsley shuddered at the thought of like the failed demon-repelling ointment.

Henry fondly smiled at the trio. "James just arrived as well." Ainsley smiled faded and her eyes darkened again at the mention of her foster brother but Henry didn't notice as he continued. "He just joined Matthew in the back garden."

"Thank you, Henry," and after laying a kiss on the man's cheek, the Ashwood girl all but ran towards the back door that lead to the garden.

She could hear the thanks Thomas and Christopher hastily sent the red-haired man before running after her. They were going to try and stop her, she knew it.

That only made her actually take off running faster.

Just as she pushed the backdoor open, her feet froze on the ground. Her black eyes caught sight of familiar head of golden curls that glistened in the sun.

Her anger all seemed to melt away again. Just seeing Matthew stood there in his ever so fashionable clothes made her forget what she had come here to do in the first place.

Thomas and Christopher quickly arrived at her side, anxious looks on their faces. The sight of standing as though had been petrified didn't seem to ease their nervousness at what she was about to do to the Herondale boy.

Then Ainsley saw the taller mop of black hair next to Matthew. Her fury came back just as quickly as it left. Her feet stormed in the boy's direction when she heard Christopher's voice call. "James, run! She's going to kill you!"

The two boys turned and surly enough James ducked behind Matthew with wide golden eyes just as Thomas caught up to her. The oldest of their group picked his parabatai up from her waist and threw her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing -and to be fair Ainsley actually didn't weigh that much.

"Thomas!" She whined. "Put me down!"

The boy kept walking, his grip firm as to keep Ainsley in place but also make sure she didn't fall and hurt herself. "Promise you won't hurt James."

"I don't do promises. Especially though I know I won't be able to keep!" Her voice was firm.

"Okay," Matthew's voice interjected between the bickering parabatai. "How about this? Leo has to promise she won't hurt James physically. All other shots are permitted."

There was a pause. Thomas turned his head towards the back to look at her expecting an answer.

"I can live with that," the girl agreed.

"The words, Annie," Thomas pressed. "I'm not putting you down until you say the words."

The half-Korean girl groaned and rolled her eyes but still pronounced in a monotonous voice, "I promise not to bodily harm James Herondale. Now put me down."

Ainsley narrowed her black eyes at Thomas before turning to James. Her face was set and her eyes glossed over. James' face resembled Will's when the older Herondale saw a duck. 

"You bloody twat! You are a horrible, inconsiderate, ridiculously despicable halfwit!" Her hands were behind her back where she was tightly holding them to keep herself from striking the boy with her fist again and again. "Do you have any idea how worried I was! You disappear without a word and then you don't even have the decency to let me know your safe and alright! I was up until three because half of me was worrying about Marcus and the other half was worrying about you!"

James -who had come out from behind his parabatai- sighed sadly. He approached his foster sister tentatively, before wrapping his arms around her. Ainsley felt all her energy leave as she sagged against James's chest. Her hands fisted the fabric of the back of his shirt as she hugged him back fiercely around his waist. 

"What if something had happened to you?" Her voice was muffled by his shirt. 

"I'm sorry, Ainsley. I didn't think." He held her tightly.

"I love you, Jamie. Please don't do this to me. I'm barely hanging on."

"I love you too." He buried his head into the crook of the Ashwood girl's neck. "I'll try to be careful."

They pulled away and Ainsley rubbed her eyes -no she did not cry- with the back of her hands. "I'm sorry, boys," the girl chuckled pitifully. "I'm a bit of a mess, at the moment."

"Leo," Matthew approached her and pulled her into a side hug. "Given what's been happening, I think you're allowed to be a bit of a mess. You are human at the end of the day."

"You're the second person to have told me that in two days to have told me that," she noted, her head finding its way to Matthew's firm chest. The smell of expensive cologne, vanilla and brandy tickled her nostrils. She felt herself relax as she leaned into the boy's gentle embrace.

Her eyes however were flew open at the feeling of something nudging her leg. A smile graced her pink lips when she saw Mr. Oscar Wilde pushing her into Matthew.

The blonde boy had received the golden retriever as a gift from James. He had excitedly introduced him to Christopher, Thomas and Ainsley as Mr. Oscar Wilde not too long after. The amount of love the Fairchild boy had for his dog was one of his most loveable traits in Ainsley opinion.

She got down and began petting the dog's golden fur which -coincidentally- matched the shade of his owner's hair. "Hi Oscar! Who's a good boy? Yes, you are! Unlike James," the half-Korean sent her brother another look as she scratched behind Oscar's ear. The dog leaned into her making her giggle as she took a seat on the ground.

"Why do I feel like he loves you more then he loves me?" Matthew took a seat next to her. His arm looped around her so that he might also pet his dog.

"Because he does."

The blonde looked taken aback as he started at her accusingly. "You're stealing my dog's affection from me."

"It's not my fault I'm more likeable."

The other three boys laughed at Matthew's playful indignation also taking place on the grace in the cool shade of a large tree, enjoying watching the pair bicker.

But when the laughter had calmed and faded, Christopher brought back the topic at hand. "What happened last night? Where'd you disappear to?"

"There you go, James. Now you don't have to tell the story more than once." Ainsley raised an eyebrow at Matthew's statement but the boy shook is head, his eyes telling her not to worry about it.

"Yes, what happened to you last night?" Further inquired Thomas. "You just vanished, you know. Matthew and Ainsley were about to rip the Institute apart brick by brick to see if you'd fallen into the crypt when your father tracked you to Chiswick."

"Why Chiswick?" Christopher remaked. "Nothing interesting happens there."

"It has now," Matthew was much too cheerful and excited about the situation.

"Well we've got two newcomers living there now and one of them is almost certainly crazy," Ainsley reminded referring to Tatiana Blackthorn. "Something was bound to happen eventually."

James began telling them a tale of how after landing in his world of whites and blacks, he was met with a light. Upon following it, he found himself in the the greenhouse of Chiswick House as though he had been teleported there and how he found himself face-to-face with a Cerberus demon. 

As he explained that he had found Lucie and Cordelia there, Ainsley grew appalled while Matthew's mood was substantially less cheerful. 

"They went demon fighting without me?"

"What on earth were they doing there?"

The pair spoke at the same time.

James raised an eyebrow at them but still said, "They'd gone to check on Miss Blackthorn and see if she was all right. And I doubt they planned on fighting a demon, Annie but I'll make sure to tell them that you were hurt."

"Seems dangerous to be out and about at night after those attacks," Matthew commented. "The girls shouldn't be taking such risks."

"Does that mean that you plan on pausing your nightly outings?" Ainsley's dark and sculpted eyebrow arched at him.

"Here's my question:" Thomas spoke up thoughtfully. "Why Lightwood—I mean, Chiswick House? Why the greenhouse?"

James shrugged. "No idea. Perhaps because the demon was there?"

"Demons do like to take up residence in ruins, especially those where there are remnants of black magic," reminded Christopher. "And we all know what Grandfather Benedict was up to in that house. It's why he turned into a worm."

"Ah, fond family memories." Matthew spoke in a wistful tone.

"I swear, this tale will be passed down for generations to come," Ainsley leaned her head against Matthew's shoulder and made a wide arc with her hands. "Our descendants in the 2000s will still be telling this story."

The blonde laid his head on the Ashwood girl's while Thomas raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Your assuming our families will still be here in the 2000s?" 

"I'd like to think so," the half-Korean shrugged.

James smiled at the conversation but then sighed and turned back to Christopher, "Well, the Clave agrees with you, Kit. They believe the demon has been there since Benedict's time. And while it seems entirely unconnected to the attacks, I do feel we have been seeing an unusual number of demons lately in rather unusual places."

"'Demons in unusual places' was Benedict's motto," Matthew tossed a stick far away for Oscar. Ainsley whined as the dog bound to his feet to chase after it. "How do we know what the Clave thinks? Charles has been remarkably tight-lipped."

"Not to me," James confessed. "He came to see me this morning."

Thomas' face grew dark in a way that happened very rarely. "Don't tell me he believes all that poppycock about you going to see Miss Blackthorn and being refused—?"

"He does believe it," the Herondale boy cut of his friend. "Or at least, I was unable to give him another, better explanation. I cannot say I was wandering about the shadow realm. Better, I suppose, that they think I am a lunatic in love."

"But you barely know Miss Blackthorn," Christopher frowned.

A nagging feeling in Ainsley's stomach told her that that wasn't actually true and with one glance at the way James was looking at his parabatai confirmed to her. She had had her doubts about James' love life being more interesting then he claimed it to be. Her and her Uncle Will had even had a whole conversation about the mystery woman that held the boy's heart might be and they had both failed to come up with a name. And now, Ainsley regretted to find that the winning woman was Grace Blackthorn.

That girl might have been white and innocent looking but she was definitely hiding a dark secret.

"I do know Grace," sighed James as he spoke specifically to Ainsley and the Lightwoods. "And I do love her." 

He unraveled the history of him and Grace. How he had first met her when Tatiana had come to ask for help in cutting her thorns, the late night rendez-vous in Brocelind forest behind their houses where he'd show her Ainsley's stolen sketches -something she reacted to with an array of colourful words- to put images to his tales of London and the people who lived there, the letters they had exchanged. He mentioned Tatiana's hate for him and how Charles had basically lectured him and ended with a kind-of order to not approach the Blackthorns -and though Ainsley hated to admit it, she agreed on that last point.

It was very suspicious to Ainsley how her foster brother and the Blackthorn ward's first meeting occurred. Tatiana Blackthorn -a woman who hated anything and everything to do with Herondales- asked a Herondale to come and trim her bushes and he just happened to meet her ward that she kept in total isolation. There was something peculiar about the whole situation.

But she kept those thoughts to herself as Christopher spoke up, "I didn't know that you were in love with someone, James." He sounded so sad and disappointed in himself. "I'm sorry. I should have been paying attention."

"I didn't know either," Thomas enunciated, "and I have been paying attention."

"I knew," all eyes turned to the group's Maid Marian as she shrugged. "I didn't know for certain that Grace was the recipient of Jamie's love. But I knew he was in love."

"I am sorry I didn't tell you before. Grace has always worried that her mother would find out and be furious. Even Lucie does not know and I thought that Annie didn't either." He smiled fondly and lauded her. "You always have been extremely observant and smart. I should have guessed you'd know."

Thomas frowned as he leaned back on his hands. "My aunt Tatiana is mad. My father has often said so, that his sister was driven to madness by what happened to her father and her husband. She blames our parents for their deaths."

"Which is ridiculous," Ainsley expressed. "Your wormy grandfather killed her husband and our parents killed him before he could kill her." She drew her eyebrows together for a second. "I said 'kill' way too many times in that sentence." She noticed.

Her comment was ignored -as they usually were.

"But James has never done anything to her," Christopher's eyebrows were knit together in confusion his voice overpowered by it. 

The Ashwood sometimes forgot that Christopher was the youngest out of them. It was moments like that made reminded her of it.

"He's a Herondale," Thomas announced. "That's enough."

"That's ridiculous," Christopher spoke with conviction. "It is as if one was bitten by a duck and years later one shot a completely different duck and ate it for dinner, and called that revenge."

Ainsley's face was adorable scrunched up as she tried to make sure she understood his metaphor correctly while Matthew grumbled, "Please do not use metaphors, Christopher. It gives me the pip."

"This is bad enough without mentioning ducks," James shuddered, most likely recalling that one time he was bitten by one in Hyde Park when they were younger. He sighed as his eyes fell on the second parabatai duo of the group. "I'm sorry, Annie, Thomas. I feel as if I have failed in helping Marcus and Barbara." There was pain in his voice.

"Jamie..." Ainsley trailed of as she removed her head from Matthew's shoulder. Her voice gentle and calm.

Her black eyes met Thomas' hazel ones as the boy denied the Herondale's statement. "No. We have only just started. I was thinking—perhaps you and I and Annie and Matthew should go to the Devil Tavern and look through the book collection. There are volumes there that the Clave will never find combing through the Institute's library. We could see if there is any mention of these daylight demon creatures."

"Looks like your habit for book thieving will pay of after all." Ainsley smirked a little.

Matthew chuckled before questioning, "What about Christopher?"

A vial of crimson red liquid out of...... Ainsley really had to ask the boy where he took these vials out of. She was honestly starting to wonder if he was a magician with how he somehow just made them appear. 

"I managed to acquire some blood that the Silent Brothers had taken from one of the patients last night," he beamed pridefully. "I intend to mix modern science and Shadowhunter magic to attempt to create an antidote for the demon poison. Henry has said I can use his laboratory while he is in Idris."

Thomas and Ainsley both narrowed their eyes at the vial. They both chorused in the most deadpan voices anyone had ever heard, "That had better not be my sister's blood."

"That had better not be my brother's blood."

They smirked at each other while the lavender-eyed boy informed that, "It's Piers's, though for the sake of pure science, it should not matter."

"It should if you value your life," Ainsley smiled and innocently blinked her dark eyes.

"That is why we are all relieved," James sent his foster sister a pointed look for her not-so-subtle threats. "Matthew and I can go to Fleet Street—perhaps Thomas and Annie should help Christopher in the lab?"

"As much as I would love to," Ainsley smiled at Christopher who beamed back, "I'll be meeting you all later. I'm having tea at Anna's."

A small note had been left under her door that morning in Anna Lightwood's beautiful cursive hand. It invited her over to the older girl's apartment to have tea with her and Cordelia over on Percy street, not too far from Governor Square where Matthew's house sat in the landscape.

"No." Thomas groaned throwing his head back at the news that his parabatai wasn't staying. "I always end up helping Christopher in the lab."

"It is because you are remarkably good at dodging explosions," said James, "and also, you can curse in Spanish."

"How does that help?" Asked Thomas, just as confused as the girl sat next to the blonde of their group.

"It doesn't," James admitted, "but Christopher likes it. It's even better when you and Ainsley are both there because Annie curses in English, Korean and Welsh. Now—"

He was cut of by Henry's voice calling him from the house, loud and clear, "James!"

All eyes followed James as the boy jumped to his feet and rushed into the house, passing by a sleeping Oscar who's four paw were up in the air and who's tongue was slipping out of his mouth while he had his dog dreams.

Ainsley sighed, hugging her arms around herself. "That boy's going to be the death of us."

Matthew hummed before shifting to his feet and grabbing a book that was stuck in the crook of the tree they sat under. He was brushing the cover when Thomas sighed, "Grace, what is she like? I don't think we've exchanged two words."

All eyes turned to the blonde for the most accurate description. There was Christopher but his retelling of the girl probably wouldn't be too faithful due to the events that had transpired before he and the ivory-haired girl first spoke.

"Very shy," Matthew confessed. "Very quiet, looks painfully frightened a great deal of the time, yet always admired at social events."

"So a big fat liar who'll crush James' heart to smithereens?"

Thomas thoughtfully gazed at his parabatai as he considered her words. "Why do you always assume the worst in people?"

"Probably the same reason you always assume the best in them," the girl shrugged. "It's part of the reason we work."

He couldn't exactly argue with her on that front. He just sighed, "It is odd, though."

"Not really," quipped Christopher. "Men like the idea of a woman they can rescue."

"Excuse me?" Ainsley looked at the boy with a mix of surprise and offense while the other two boys were amazed.

"I heard my mother say it once," he said. "Seems true in this case."

"In this case," Ainsley nodded her head but continued, "yes. But if a man ever tries to 'rescue' me, I'll shove a sword so far up their a-"

"Okay!" Thomas interrupted with a wide hand movement and wide eyes. "We get the picture."

"Though, it's not like anyone would ever even want to marry me."

Matthew tilted his head to the side, "Why's that?"

Ainsley got to her feet and brushed of the slight dirt from her teal dress, her eyebrows raised and a look that said, seriously? on her beautiful features. "Oh come on, have you met me? I'm mean and insufferable and cold and closed of. I have zero filter and violence is always my first resort wether it be physical or emotional. What man in our day and age would want to marry a woman like that?" 

She didn't leave room for anyone to respond, instead announcing, "Anyway, I'm off to Anna's. Let James know I said bye. I leave you all with my love and hope that it will fill the void of my absence. Do not do anything stupid without me."

"How can we? You're talking all the stupid with you!"

"Love you too, dear parabatai!" She called over her shoulder and she was gone.

Thomas shook his head before turning to look at Matthew who was staring after her with a look of longing in his eyes.

And much to their surprise Christopher Lightwood was the one who said, "You've got it bad, mate," with an amused chuckle.

.

AINSLEY COULDN'T CONTAIN THE "OH, bloody hell." that slipped her lips when she reached No. 30 on Percy Street no matter how hard she tried.

Miss Evangeline was back apparently and she was crying her pretty little eyes out. Perfect. Ainsley thought bitterly. 

She almost chuckled remembering the conversation she'd just had with the boys. She truly wondered how Matthew even considered that she might ever get a husband when those were her first thoughts at the sight of a sobbing young lady.

Not that she wanted one.

The dark haired girl could see Cordelia's frame in another one of the horrible pastel dresses her mother probably forced her into. She was standing awkwardly, not entirely sure what to do. 

"For the love of God, Evangeline," she spoke in exasperation approaching the door. "Go home." She turned to look at Cordelia and offered a smile. "Hello, Daisy."

Evangeline however glared and pointed and accusing finger at her. "You!" She seethed.

The half-Korean looked behind her to find no one. She turned back to Evangeline, pointed to herself. "Me?" She questioned confused.

"Are you the one she's leaving me for?"

Ainsley couldn't hold back her startled laugh. "Good Heavens, no. If I were to begin a relationship with a woman it most certainly wouldn't be with Anna Lightwood."

"You wound me, Annie!" Anna dramatic called from her window where she was leaning out. 

Ainsley turned her head and smiled up to the girl. She was in a dressing gown of purple and gold threads and her short hair was impeccable as always. 

"It would be like being in a relationship with my sister, Anna dearest." She called back.

"That is true."

Ainsley turned back to the sobbing blonde who's shoulder Cordelia was patting in sympathy.

"Besides wasn't there a Count or something? The man you're supposed marry?"

"She's to be married Wednesday. To a baronet."

"A baronet," the half-Korean girl nodded with fake interest and recall, "right."

"I don't want him!" Evangeline hit her feet, like a child throwing a tantrum. And people wondered why Ainsley preferred staying with boys. So much less drama. "I want you!"

"No," said Anna. "You want a baronet."

"And you do honestly want to live in that flat?" Ainsley cringed, "I've been here enough to assure you that it's always a mess."

"See, Annie gets it. Now go on, Evangeline, there's a good girl."

A fresh batch of tears escaped Evangeline's tear ducts as she weeped, "I thought I was the one. After all the other girls—I thought they didn't mean anything—"

"They didn't," Anna cheerfully affirmed. "And neither did you. Do come up, Annie and bring Cordelia with you, the water's already boiled."

But instead of letting the teenagers pass, Evangeline bounced to her feet with a sharp yell that made Ainsley honestly fear for her life. Well, Hell hath no fury...

"I shall not stand for this!" she declared. "I'm coming back in!"

Anna's cool and collected manner switched to alarm. "Ainsley, please stop her, my-"

"-landlady hates fusses," she mumbled in exasperation she moved to block Evangeline, "I know."

This wasn't a first for Ainsley. She was over quite frequently to have tea with Anna had always been confronted with a scorned lover in tears on the three steps of Anna's building. The steps of shame, that's what she'd dubbed them.   
At first she felt bad for all the girls but eventually it just became a tradition where Anna and her tried to convince the girls they were better of without the Lightwood girl. And they were.

But she could see that poor Cordelia wasn't sure how to react. Yet one of the other million things she was used to in London was Ainsley and Anna's game of getting the former's lovers to leave her alone.

"Evangeline, you're marrying a baronet on Wednesday. A baronet." Ainsley accentuate the title. "Do you have any idea what I would give for a baronet?" The blonde girl actually seemed to be awaiting an answer. All of them were which made Ainsley admit, "Well nothing, because I don't want one. But that's besides the point." She shook her head. She truly was a lost cause, and she knew it.

Luckily for her a gray carriage zoomed to a stop in front of the apartment complex. Out came a tall blonde woman that made Ainsley think of all the descriptions of Hera and Juno that Will, Tessa and James had read to her over the years. Her face was red and about to explode.

"Evangeline!" She bellowed so angrily that Ainsley had to physically cover her mouth to not wish Evangeline luck out loud. "Get into the carriage this instant!"

"Yes, Mama," Evangeline now reassembled a scared little mouse as she squeaked and scuttled of towards the carriage. Her head ducked down in shame.

"You!" The woman shrieked, wagging an angry finger at Anna who didn't seem even a little bothered. "You are a disgrace! Breaking girls' hearts like that! An absolute disgrace, sir! If it were but a century ago, I should slap a glove in your face, decidedly!"

Ainsley's eyebrows raised up to her hairline as she heard Anna burst into laughter. She watched the carriage door slam shut. The horses galloped away leaving Ainsley to stare after it with her arms crossed over her chest, her hip cocked to the side and her face set in a wince. 

"I hope she'll be alright," she mused. "I mean, she was dreadful and annoying but still." With a finale sigh she turned towards Cordelia with a shrug, "Well there's nothing we can do about it! Come on, let go have some tea."

She led the younger girl up to the second floor, her hand firmly clasped in her own as they walked up the stairs. Ainsley was familiar with the dingy lobby and the light that hardly lit it. Her feet were used to the changes in stride to go up the uneven steps as the carpet that was crumbling apart scrunched under their feet. 

Just before reaching the second landing, Ainsley turned to Cordelia. "Just know that I wasn't joking when I said that Anna's place is a mess. So.... careful where you walk."

The two girls entered the flat of mismatched furniture and vibrant colours. Ainsley went and slumped down into one of winged armchairs, her legs swung over the arm as he back rest against the other. Cordelia however was looking around in wonder. She clearly didn't think that the place was a mess like her nee friend.

"I see that you're examining Percival," Ainsley turned her head towards the back of the armchair to look over at Cordelia. She was stood near Anna's bedroom door next to which she exposed her two-headed stuffed snake. "Spectacular, isn't he?" Anna spoke from her spot near the window.

"He's certainly brightly colored," Cordelia managed.

"There's no need to be polite Cordelia," Ainsley spoke up from her seat. "You can admit that it is hideous."

With a playful glare at the younger girl, the Lightwood explained that, "He was a love gift. I never do court dull girls." 

The half-Korean hummed in confirmation and almost exasperation at that statement. 

"Did that woman call you 'sir'?" Cordelia questioned, curiosity tinging her voice. "Did she think you were a man?"

"Wouldn't be the first time." The Ashwood girl remarked. 

Anna shot her cigar into the fireplace as she lounged down on her worn out sofa. "Best to let people believe what they want to believe, in my experience." She added.

"Poor Evangeline," the half-Persian commented as she settled herself into an armchair next to Ainsley after removing Cortana from her back.

"I thought all that business with her had ended a week ago?" Ainsley raised an eyebrow.

"I was too nice about it," Anna shrugged. She noticed Cordelia's curious glance and sighed. "This is not the first time I have tried to break it off with her," she explained. "The last few times I was gentler, but as her wedding day drew near, I felt one must be cruel to be kind. I had never wanted her life ruined." 

Ainsley always wondered why Anna had chosen this path. She was so happy and proud of the girl when she had had the courage to admit that she preferred girls to boys back when Ainsley was 15. But something had caused her to become this femme fatale who broke young girls' hearts for the hell of it. She had yet to uncover that mystery but she felt as though the answer was more obvious then she thought.

"Now, Cordelia Carstairs," Anna smirked as she inclined herself closer to Cordelia, "tell us all your secrets."

Ainsley's black eyes flickered over to the youngest girl in the room, awaiting a response. One side of her lips tugged upwards when the redhead replied, "I think I'd better not, I don't know you very well."

Anna let out a laugh as her and the other girl shared a look. 

"Are you always so straightforward?" The half-Korean sounded curious. It would be nice to not be the only one to blurt out the first thing she thought.

She never got a response since Anna had interjected. "Why did you come to tea if you didn't want to gossip?"

"I didn't say I didn't want to gossip. Just not about myself."

"You're a vexing little thing," Anna's smile would have put the Cheshire cat to shame. She then quickly leaped to her feet and moved towards her small kitchen. "Oh! The kettle."

"Do bring some biscuits while you're there!" Ainsley tilted her head back and called. "I'm rather peckish."

The Lightwood girl made no hint to act as though she'd heard her friend. Instead she directed her words to Cordelia. "Well, then, if you want to gossip but you don't want to tell me about yourself, why don't you tell me about your brother? Is he as awful as he used to be at school?"

"Did you go to school with Alastair?"

"No, Annie, James and Matthew and the rest of the Merry Thieves did."

Cordelia turned to Ainsley who sighed. "I'll admit that we're not entirely fond of your brother. Marcus adores Alastair and Thomas has never spoken an ill word about him but that's just because he is the kindest person to have walked the Earth," her voice was filled with affection on the subject of her parabatai. "Matthew says he's a miserable blighter, though."

"How do you feel about him?"

Ainsley took a deep breath as she tentatively explained, "You may have noticed that I'm... protective of my boys. Alastair completely destroyed James those first few weeks at the Academy. I'm sure if I get to know him, things might change but I don't particularly like him. I obviously mean no offense."

Anna returned amongst them with the tea. She handed the girl she viewed as a little sister a cup -having mastered the making of the young girl's tea- and turned to Cordelia. "Sugar? I haven't any milk."

"No sugar," she accepted the cup that Anna handed her, placing it awkwardly on her knees. She turned to the Ashwood girl with an apologetic look. "Alastair is rather awful, but I don't think he means to be."

"Do you think he's in love?" Anna inquired. "People can be awful when they're in love."

"That's a load of nonsense," Ainsley furrowed her eyebrows at her. "Uncle Will and Aunt Tessa are in love and they are far from awful. Same goes for your parents and Uncle Gideon and Aunt Sophie." 

Her thoughts then went to James. He wasn't awful but he was different. How he acted in love wasn't what Ainsley saw as love at all. This honestly had her somewhat worried.

One more mystery for her to solve.

"And I don't know who he'd be in love with," Cordelia added. "He's hardly had time to fall in love with anyone, since we've just arrived in London, and I doubt everything that's happened has put anyone in a falling-in-love mood—"

Ainsley cut in, "What did your father do, exactly?"

She knew this was part of the reason Anna had invited Cordelia over in the first place. She was as curious about Elias Carstairs' absence as the London Institute's ward was and this was a perfect chance to find out.

"What?" Cordelia sputtered.

"What, Annie means to ask, though she clearly lacks the tact," Anna sent her a look to which the dark-haired girl stuffed a chocolate chip cookie into her mouth and sent a closed mouthed grin, "we all know he did something dreadful."

"Now who lacks tact?"

Anna ignored the younger girl, "And that your mother's come here to try to ingratiate herself back into Shadowhunter society. I hope everyone won't be too stiff-necked about it. I quite like your mother. She reminds me of a queen out of a fairy tale, or a peri from Lalla Rookh. You're half-Persian, aren't you?"

"Yes," Cordelia nodded a bit wearily.

"Then why is your brother so blond?" Anna questioned with sincere intrigue. "And you so redheaded—I thought Persians were darker-haired."

Ainsley threw a cushion she happened to be lounged on at the Lightwood girl. "That's offensive, not just too Cordelia but to me too."

She was also half-British and half-something else. It was quite offensive to hear something like that from Anna even if it wasn't directed at her. She knew the Lightwood girl meant no harm but it still hurt. The fact to just regroup people based on stereotypes was absolutely ridiculous. She was sure Anna would be offended if she said, "All British people like tea." It was a bloody stereotype and could be rather hurtful.

The redhead nodded at the other half-British girl's words, "There are all sorts of Persians, and we all look different. You wouldn't expect everyone in England to look alike, would you? Why should it be different for us? My father is British and very fair, and my mother's hair was red when she was a little girl. Then it darkened, and as for Alastair—he dyes his hair."

"He does?" Anna raised her eyebrows as she hugged the pillow the half-Korean had thrown to her chest.

"He had dark hair at the Academy. Though I didn't quite understand why he dyed it." The Ashwood girl turned to Cordelia with question in her obsidian irises.

Despite his meanness, Ainsley couldn't deny that Alastair was handsome. She honestly thought he looked better with his dark hair.

"Because he hates that his hair and skin and eyes are dark," explained Cordelia. "He always has. We have a country house in Devon, and people used to stare when we went into the village."

That was when it all made sense. Everything clicked in Ainsley's brain. Every cruel word he had uttered, every ruthless and thoughtless action he had done. Alastair Carstairs didn't become a bully because he wanted to but rather it was the only way he thought he could survive. It was the only way he would be able to survive in a society dominated by rich white boys.

That was why Marcus became such good friends with the Carstairs boy. Because he understood. 

She and Marcus had endured so much bullying just to fit in with the others in the Enclave. Heard so many horrible things from girls like Rosamund and Catherine or boys like Charles -that was a story for another day- and Piers Wentworth. No one cared anymore because not only had they gotten used to the Ashwood siblings but also Marcus' endless kindness and Ainsley amazing mastery of weapons and willingness to fight and fill her role as a warrior.

Having heard this she understood everything and felt sorry for the boy. The twinging coil of hate she had towards the boy loosened in her heart. 

Anna also seemed surprised but she didn't have a revelation like her young friend. "People are—" She stopped talking to swear in welsh and said something that the Ashwood girl just rolled her eyes at, "Now I rather feel sympathy toward your brother, and that was the last thing I wanted. Quick, ask me a question. Or Annie."

And Ainsley was the one who lacked tact?

Cordelia opened her mouth, turning to the brunette. "The other night, at the ball. Marcus, he called you something." She pronounced curiously. "When you two were about to cut off Barbara's corset."

A small smile tugged at Ainsley's lips. "He-joo. It's my Korean name. Marcus uses it sometimes."

"Does he have a Korean name too?" Anna questioned. "I've never asked."

The brunette girl nodded her head. "It's Se-joo. Kim Se-joo."

"And Matthew, he called you something else too."

"He calls me 'Leo'. He has since he got expelled from the Academy."

The half-Persian furrowed her eyebrows. "Why?"

"It's short for 'Leonie', my middle name. He said, he wanted an original nickname for me."

"That's sweet. How long have you been courting?"

Ainsley choked on the tea she had been drinking. "I beg your pardon?"

"You and Matthew." Cordelia looked at her puzzled. "I assumed you were courting."

"No. We- we aren't courting." Ainsley sputtered out as she nervously tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear at the thought.

Her and Matthew? Courting? It was absolutely ridiculous!   
Then why did the prospect of it make her stomach fill with giddy butterflies?

Cordelia blushed in embarrassment. "Oh! I'm terribly sorry." 

Ainsley managed to smile though she cheeks were also a fiery red. She waved her hand as if to say, It's alright.

"Well, I'm feeling rather left out, right now!" Both the half-British girls turned to Anna with raised eyebrows; Cordelia's in surprise and Ainsley's in exasperation.

She loved Anna but the Lightwood drove her mad at time.

So -quite probably just to appease her- Cordelia cleared her throat. "Why did you want to get to know me? I'm younger than both of you, and you must know loads more interesting people."

Anna dramatically shot to her feet. "I must get changed." She announced before taking off into her bedroom.

The brunette shook her head at her friend before turning back to Cordelia. "You interest me." She shrugged before reminding. "And you're just younger to me by a year, Daisy."

Anna then spoke, her voice impeccably clear through the thin walls. "Well, at first, it was because you're a new girl in our set, and I was wondering if you were good enough for our Jamie."

"Good enough for them in what sense?"

Ainsley knew the joke she was about to pull and smirked at the younger girl. "Well, marriage of course."

"Anything else would be scandalous." Anna added.

It was Cordelia's turn to choke on her tea and sputter, now. Ainsley couldn't suppress her laugh and neither could Anna. Where the Lightwood girl's sounded soft and rich as melting butter, the Ashwood's was soft and delicate as a soft summer breeze.

"Wait, why not Matthew as well?" Ainsley then questioned. 

Though his ways were scandalous and he had a reputation to prove it, Matthew Fairchild was young, handsome, rich and well-bred. He was as good a bachelor as anyone.

But a part of her didn't like the idea of Matthew getting married. She couldn't explain it. There was a feeling of her heart, clenching uncomfortably and a burning sensation lining her stomach at the mere though of it.

"He's already got his eyes set on another prize." Was all Anna said, her voice full of mystery before admitting, "You are too much fun to tease, Cordelia. I meant good enough to know his secrets—and Christopher's and Tom's and Matthew and Annie's as well. They are my special favorites, those five, you must have noticed." Ainsley smiled as a blush dusted her cheeks. "And, well, the current crop of girls in London is rather dire, isn't that right Annie?"

At the the girl scowled. "Bloody hags, the lot of them." Her face wore a look of disgust at the mere thought of those girls. "Though, Lucie's wonderful of course." She added.

"But she'll never look at any of the boys as anything but brothers." Anna called from her room.

"Seems sensible," Cordelia mumbled, "especially in James's case."

Ainsley let out a soft chuckle as she shifted her gaze to her lap, her hands spreading out the creases of her skirt but Anna who hadn't heard the half-Persian continued on with her speech, "They need a muse, someone to be inspired by. Someone to know their secrets. Would you like to be a muse?"

"No," Cordelia immediately denied. "I would like to be a hero."

The Ashwood girl let a smile embellish her pink lips as she lifted her gaze to the younger girl. Anna too poked her head out the door and the pair traded a glance before gazing at the redhead through long lashes.

"I suspected as much," The Lightwood slammed her door shut again, "That's really why I asked you and Ainsley here."

Ainsley. Not Annie. Things were very serious if Anna Lightwood was calling her by her given name and not by the nickname their family had assigned to her.

"What do you mean?"

"We are in danger," called Anna. "All of us, and the Clave will not see it. I am afraid if steps are not taken, it will be too late for Marcus-" Ainsley bit her lip at the reminder of her brother and what state he found himself in, "and Barbara and Piers and—and Ariadne." 

There was something in the way Anna said the girl's name that made Ainsley furrow her eyebrows. She knew that Anna and Ariadne were good friends but now her mind seemed to be spinning with idea that maybe there was something more.

"I need your help." Anna Lightwood announced.

The brunette girl wasn't too sure how she was to help but if it might help her brother or figure out what happened to him, she was willing to do anything. For Marcus, she was prepared to scale the highest mountain, swim the deepest sea or vanquished the cruellest demon. For her brother, Ainsley Ashwood was prepared to die.

"But what can I—"

Cordelia was cut of by the bang of the front door being slammed open and the echo of an all too familiar voice echoing, "Anna! Leo!" 

And just as Ainsley flipped her gaze from a Cordelia that looked just as confused as her to the door, her black eyes met Matthew Fairchild's green ones as he burst into Anna Lightwood's living room.

.

A/N  
This chapter is sooooooo much longer then I expected it to be! 😅 Though I hope you all liked it. And I promise that I'll include what happened between Marcus and Charles in this retelling of the Ashwood family's lives.   
We might have a small flashback in the next one 😉

.


	9. VIII.

.

NO STRANGE LAND

But (when so sad thou canst not sadder)  
Cry;—and upon thy so sore loss  
Shall shine the traffic of Jacob's ladder  
Pitched betwixt Heaven and Charing Cross.

—Francis Thompson, "In No Strange Land"

.

AINSLEY HAD TO ADMIT THAT she had seen a lot of things in Anna Lightwood's living room. But Matthew Fairchild rushing into the parlour with his silk hat clutched in his hand was definitely a first.

She blinked her black eyes in bewilderment as he began, "Leo, Anna, you won't believe—" His voice faltered and his eyebrows knit themselves in the center of his brow as he gazed a Cordelia. "What are you doing here?"

That made Ainsley grab the cushion that dug into her side and fling it at the boy. A startled gasp left the boy as the feather filled weight hit him in the chest.

"Having tea." Cordelia answered with the same amount of rudeness as Matthew. Ainsley didn't even try to hide her smirk.

His green eyes looked like a meadow in the light of the room as they swept over each surface. Raziel, Ainsley loved those eyes, even when she was infuriated with the boy. "I don't see Anna."

Ainsley rolled her own eyes at his suspicious tone. This boy, he drove her crazy at times. He was acting as if Cordelia and herself had gained magic and turned Anna into a cat or something.

"She's in her bedroom," informed Cordelia, in a clipped tone.

"Alone?"

"Matthew!" Both Ainsley and Anna yelled aggravated by the blonde's behaviour.

The latter then added, "Don't be awful," through her bedroom door.

The Consul's second son was quick to stride over to the bedroom door and casually drap himself onto the wall next to it, his head easily angled to speak through the crack of the door. He made no attempt to hide what he was about to say from Cordelia, even if her presence was a surprise to him. "I have already had a maddening day. James has been slandered by Tatiana Blackthorn and my rotten older brother is backing her up to the hilt; James has gone off to rendezvous with Grace. I am here to get squiffy and try to forget what a foolish thing my parabatai is doing. Also, Leo and I have to be at Fleet Street by midnight."

Ainsley had swerved upright on her armchair from where she had been sprawled on it sideways. "James is gone to a secret rendezvous with that witch?" She demanded. When Matthew nodded, her eyes widened as she exclaimed absolutely outraged, "And you let him?"

"This is James Herondale we're talking about, Leo," the blonde reminded. "He would have gone anyways. There was a note with the words 'Urgent' on them in red. There was not way he would not go."

The half-Korean girl restlessly jolted to her feet. She began to burn a hole in Anna's living room, curses muttered under her breath. By the Angel, how her foster brother annoyed her these days with his stupid and rash decisions. All of which revolved around a sole figure on the board of their lives: Grace Blackthorn.

She didn't pause her pacing -something she had quite the tendency to do- when Anna reappeared from her bedroom dressed perfectly in a white shirt and dark trousers that were topped with a twinning black coat. Her blue eyes took in Ainsley's frame with a sigh.

"A dreadful tale," she then turned to Matthew with a pleasant tone. "Shall we go?"

"Certainly," the boy agreed. He walked over to Ainsley and grabbed her gently by her biceps to make her turn to him and quietly mumbled. "He'll be fine, Leo." After the brunette reluctantly nodded, the blonde boy smiled and took her arm and locked it in his own. He then lead her towards where Anna stood and turned to the youngest girl in the room. "Cordelia, it was lovely, if surprising, to see you."

Anna slipped on a pair of white gloves. "There is no need to say farewell, Cordelia will be coming with us. That was why I invited her here in the first place."

"I thought you wanted to have tea!" Cordelia exclaimed in astonishment.

Ainsley managed to escape her troubled thoughts to send the girl a smile. "Tea with Anna is never just tea."

She still remembered the first time Anna had had her over for tea. Around the middle of the evening, she got up and took the girl to her first ever salon where they met up with Matthew. Since that day she knew what to expect whenever she got an invitation to 'have tea'.

"Tea is always an excuse for a clandestine agenda." The Lightwood girl agreed.

Matthew raised an eyebrow however. "Anna, Cordelia is a proper young lady."

Ainsley turned to him with a look of offense. "What the bloody hell is that supposed mean?"

"I'm not saying you're not a proper young lady, Leo. You already know about where we are going and the risks. Cordelia doesn't. She may not wish to risk her reputation by sallying out with Downworlders and reprobates."

"Cordelia wants to be a hero," Anna announced.

"Okay, can you two stop talking about the darling girl as if she isn't in the same room as us?" 

Ainsley was ceremonially ignored by the older girl as she said, "One cannot do that by staying at home stitching samplers. I was at the Enclave meeting today; you were not. I know how the Enclave has decided to handle our current situation, and I do not think it will help those who are stricken, or prevent the attack at the lake from happening again."

The Ashwood girl went rigid at the mention of the attack, her thoughts drifting to her brother and how she had found him in the park. Matthew felt it as he moved so that he had an arm wrapped around the girl and was holding her in a comforting manner. "I thought Marcus and Barbara was getting better. Thomas said—"

"The Silent Brothers have put all the wounded to sleep, Math," Ainsley mumbled loud enough for everyone to hear. She remembered passing by the infirmary that morning and sitting at her brother's bedside until Will appeared with Jem and told her what they were going to do. Luckily, Christopher arrived not to long after and they set of to the Consul's house with Thomas before Ainsley could start worrying too much. Her anger at James seemed to overpower it. "They hope that they will heal, but..."

"Hope is not a solution," Anna agreed with a sympathetic look to her younger friend. "The Clave insists this was a random demon attack, which took place not in daylight but under cloud cover. They have set patrols in Regent's Park."

Ainsley rolled her eyes and rhetorically questioned, "Well everyone in the Clave who isn't part of our family have always been idiots, haven't they?" 

"It was not random," Cordelia spoke up. "There were mundanes in the park, too—none were attacked."

"And the demons came before the cloud cover did," included Matthew. "When Piers fell screaming, the sun was still visible."

Anna nodded gravely, "You begin to see the problem. Several Enclave members made those points, among them my parents, but the majority prefer to think of this as the sort of problem they have faced before. Not something new."

"Like I said," Ainsley looked like a mix between annoyed and exasperated. "Idiots."

"And you think it's something new."

"I am sure of it," the oldest of the four answered the youngest's statement. "And when a new supernatural threat enters London, who are the first to know of it? Downworlders. We should be asking questions in Downworld. There was a time when the Clave had connections with High Warlocks, with the leaders of the vampire and werewolf clans. With the Queen of the Seelie Court." 

"Uncle Will and Aunt Tessa have done all they can," Ainsley explained to the half-Persian girl, still leaning into Matthew's side as his arm stayed around her shoulders, "but these alliances have been left to fray and now Shadowhunters can only imagine relying on themselves."

"I see," Matthew's voice was full of glee and mischief and Ainsley didn't even need to look to know that his eyes were sparkling. "We shall be going to the Hell Ruelle, then."

"Matthew, Annie and I occasionally attend an artistic salon in a building owned by the High Warlock of London," Anna clarified for Cordelia. 

Ainsley sighed, in a somewhat dreamy manner. "Malcolm Fade."

"Malcolm Fade?" 

There was practically no way that Cordelia hadn't heard of him. Not with when Lucie had grown to have a ginormous crush on him after that one time he visited the Institute. The Ashwood girl was absolutely certain that Cordelia had received letters that had detailed descriptions and Lucie's fantasies about the High Warlock of London.

"Every Downworlder who is anyone will be there," revealed Anna. "It is time for us to do what we do best."

"Drink?" said Matthew at the same time as Ainsley furrowed her eyebrows and question, "Fight?"

Anna rolled her blue eyes and shook her head in dismay at the pair. "Be charming. Ask questions. See what we can learn." 

The half-Korean raised her eyebrows as she straightened up. "You have the wrong Ashwood, Anna. Marcus is the charming one," she reminded. "I'm the reserved one."

"Yes but they all adore you, for some reason," the black haired girl waved of before turning to the half-Persian. "Come, come. Get up. Is the carriage downstairs, Matthew?"

"At your service," Matthew exhaled before turning back to the youngest. "Are you quite sure you want to come, Cordelia? It will be scandalous."

"Will you let her be?" Ainsley slapped him on the arm. "She's coming and that's final."

He raised his hands in surrender before leading the way out. The cool evening air brushed over Ainsley's arms through the fabric of her dress when the quartet exited the building and made for the carriage with the Consul's coat of arms. 

"So what kind of salon is this, exactly?" Cordelia curiously as she took the hand Matthew had held out to her. She climbed into the vehicle, Anna, Ainsley and Matthew following shortly after.

"An exclusive one," Anna got comfortable next the the redhead as the blonde boy pulled her door shut from his spot next to Ainsley. "Some of the most famous Downworlders in the world attend."

The carriage set of, the slight rocking movement also lulling the group in a comfortable way. 

"Some you may have heard of; some you may not," the Lightwood girl continued her explanation. "Some with reputations they don't deserve—and some with reputations they more than do."

"I never thought of Downworlders as being interested in painting and poetry," noted Cordelia. "But I suppose there is no reason they shouldn't be, is there? It's just those aren't things that Shadowhunters do. We don't create like that."

"We can," Matthew spoke instantly, his voice rather abrupt. "We are simply told we shouldn't. Do not confuse conditioning with a native inability."

Cordelia's dark eyes turned to him, slightly narrowed. "Do you create, Matthew? Do you draw, or paint, or pen poetry?"

"Lucie writes," Matthew said after a moment's hesitation, something that didn't go unnoticed by the two older girls in the carriage. "I thought she wrote for you, sometimes."

Ainsley took Matthew's hand that was resting on his knee and began playing with it. "You know Lucie worries, Math."

Cordelia nodded in agreement. "She doesn't say so, but I know she worries, that all her writing will come to nothing, because she is a Shadowhunter and that must come first." Her dark eyes then turned to Ainsley with a smile, "What about you Ainsley? Do you create?"

"No," the brunette smiled at the question.

Matthew looked at the girl incredulously. He turned to Cordelia shaking his head. "Don't listen to her. She's lying. Our girl's actually an artist."

"Matthew I hardly think we can call my chicken scratches 'art'."

"That's nonsense!" Even Anna spoke up. "Your sketches are lovely."

Ainsley ducked her head down, feeling the blush burning up her cheeks and the side of her neck.

She used to sketch and draw and paint in attempts to make something beautiful but the hobby dwindled down to a stress reliever as she grew older. Now it was just a way to take out her frustration without desecrating every single punching bag in the training room. She didn't draw to show people, just for herself. It was just a bonus that they usually amounted to something decent and rather pleasing for the eyes in shades of grey.   
The charcoal that stained her hands for days was also a nice plus for her. Eventually over time, she'd let her family peek through the pages of her sketchbook, filled to the brim with drawings of them and the London skyline.

Cordelia must have sensed the older girl's discomfort and hesitantly changed the subject. "What does it mean, 'Hell Ruelle'?"

"Official academic gatherings in Paris have always been controlled by men, but salons are a world ruled by women," Anna explained with bright eyes. "One famous noble lady seated her artistic guests in her ruelle—the space between her bed, any lady's bed, really, and the wall. A scandalous spot. Informally, an artistic gathering presided over by a woman came to be known as a 'ruelle.'"

"But you said Malcolm Fade ran this one, I thought."

"He owns the building." Ainsley continued toying with Matthew's long fingers between her own.

Anna smirked and continued, "As for who runs it, you will see soon enough."

"Where are we going?"

One of Anna Lightwood's blue eyes dropped into a wink. "Berwick Street. In Soho."

.

SOHO WAS A BEAUTIFUL GEM buried at the heart of London town in Ainsley's humble opinion. 

A mere step in the neighbourhood gave one such a sense of liberty and feel as though they might take over the world. If one wanted to see real life in London, it was her belief that Soho was the place to go. It was where you could meet the real Londoners and not those who shoved so many rules and restrictions down their children's throats that they might choke.

The streets prowled with some of the bravest souls the world had to offer. Those who dared to step out of the lines that society deemed appropriate. Writers who penned down the secret of their hearts, painters that exposed their vision through images, reformers that fought for what they deemed right, musicians that sung a song in hopes to make smiles brighten the faces of the populace, they could all be found in these busy and bustling streets. Under the glare of the gaslight, they would mingle with tradesmen and shopkeepers and lords and ladies that high society had shunned, some for reasons that were far out of their control like the person that the loved.

And all these individuals all came together after the sun had disappeared behind the horizon while the rest of the city prepared to slumber. Bakers, grocers and butchers all took to the cramped streets that sat in the darkness trying to sell their products while they were still good. Men and women tried on second hand clothes and looked over china at the small stands that lined the streets. Laughs and loud voices drifted out of the Blue Posts pub as the carriage rolled by, sitting right next to a tea shop.

The hansom quivered to a stop on the cobblestones after Anna indicated the place. It stood was at the corner of Berwick and Tyler's Court, away from where the main flux of people was coming from. The group could hear voices laughing and shouting while nuts roasted over a fire somewhere when they jumped down to the pavement.

Ainsley smiled a little at just how clueless all those people were, how unaware of the shadows the lurked in the dark. They didn't have to worry about getting devoured by demons. 

If she wasn't a Shadowhunter, she wouldn't mind a life in Soho as a sketch artist. Getting paid to draw out people's features so that they might hang them up on their walls at home. It was also a way of life. A rather honest life, if you asked her. The mere thought of it was humbling.

A shining coin entered her vision and a deep voice smoothly questioned. "A penny for your thoughts?"

Ainsley blinked, her eyes focusing to see that Matthew was holding a penny up in the air in front of her nose. She chuckled a little before turning to look at him. The blonde had a curious smile on his face, his golden locks and one of those green eyes she loved so much covered by his hat. The golden threads of his brocade waistcoat simmered under the gaslight.

She took the coin out of his fingers with a sugary smile of her own. "My thoughts are worth so much more then a mere penny. But for you," she jabbed his chest, "I'll make an exception."

"So what's going on in that big brain of yours? Finding the key to one of mysteries, are you?"

"Thinking about what it would be like to live here. In Soho."

"It would be rather wonderful, wouldn't it?" The boy mused. He was looking down at the girl as she reached up to straighten his hat.

Her black eyes were focused on the task while her thoughts began to wander again. This time they didn't picture life in Soho but rather life with Matthew. Ainsley Ashwood had become conscious of this hyper-awareness she had gained when it came to the Consul's second son, especially over the last couple of days. 

And she had noticed his watchful eyes on her when she had answered his question on the subject of why no one might want to marry her. And there was something about his face the made her feel that he might say something. She hadn't give him the chance or option by quickly taking her leave. Ainsley hadn't hastily departed because of the fear if being late. She knew that her and Anna might have simply had a friendly spat about it and potentially brought a shy and amused smile to Cordelia's lips. She had left that abruptly out of the fear of what any of the boys might say, out of fear that they wouldn't name her unmarriable and that would make the reality of life sink in that she was getting older.

Once satisfied with the placement of Matthew's hat, Ainsley smiled a small smile and let her arms fall to her side and her eyes moved to Matthew's that were already watching her. The smile slowly left as she stared into his eyes. It was almost as if being under a spell.

"What's a lapidary?" Both teenagers jumped apart, blinking. They both turned red and fidgeting as they turned to see Cordelia tilting her head in confusion a sign that read A. JONES. LAPIDARY

"A lapidary phrase is one that is worth carving into stone," explained Matthew, "and preserving forever—a wise saying such as 'we are dust and shadows,' or alternately, any words that come out of my mouth."

"I think you mean my mouth," Ainsley corrected.

The blonde raised an eyebrow while the young girl just smiled cockily.

"They sell phrases there?"

"No, love," Ainsley couldn't help but chuckle. "They sell objects with phrases carved into them."

"For instance, if you wished words of love to be etched into your wedding band. Or words of regret and sorrow on your grave. For my own headstone, I was hoping for something a bit grand."

"By the Angel, Matthew," Ainsley rubbed her temple with a smile as one of her fists rested on her waist.

The redhead raised an eyebrow and dryly states. "You surprise me. I am all astonishment."

As dramatic as ever the boy's arms raised up to face the dark blue skies as he stood under the warm gaslight. "Perhaps a simple 'O grave, where is thy victory? O Death, where is thy sting?'" He then paused and sighed, "But does that truly capture the light I brought to the lives of friends and acquaintances, the sorrow they will feel when it is extinguished? Perhaps:

'Shed not for him the bitter tear  
Nor give the heart to vain regret;  
'Tis but the casket that lies here,  
The gem that filled it sparkles yet'?"

His voice had risen and his arm had pulled his friend into his side. Applause swelled all around them but Matthew's green eyes were soley fixed on Ainsley Ashwood who was looking up at him with a wide smile. She shook her head and looked away. Trying to hide it.

She hadn't smiled that big since Marcus got poisoned. A sense of pride washed over Matthew at the sight. He was the one who put it there.

"Do stop babbling rot, Matthew," Anna snapped as she reappeared out of the alley she had disappeared through. "Now come along, the three of you, they're expecting us."

And with that, Ainsley grabbed the the blonde's hand and with a final squeeze to his hand, they took of into the salon with a sort of determination to try and find a way to help those unconscious.

After all, Matthew Fairchild had made her a promise and he planned on keeping it.

.

PAST DAYS  
London Institute, 1901

"STOP MOVING," AINSLEY GENTLY CHIDED, her eyes flickering from her model to the sketchbook she had propped up on an easel.

"How much longer?" Matthew complained.

Ainsley's eyes flickered up to him again, her eyebrows raised in an unimpressed manner. "You asked me to for this, remember?"

"Yes, but I didn't think it would take this long!"

"I told you to take a position in which your comfortable," Ainsley reminded. "There was a reason for that."

She sighed and looked at the drawing in front of her. "Five more minutes," she informed. "Then you can move again."

Matthew grumbled but stayed still. 

He was sitting as straight as a board, his legs crossed in front of him. His hair was looking perfect as always and his clothes hadn't a speck of dust on them. 

The day before he had seen a few of Ainsley's sketches and begged for her to draw him. After a lot of pestering and following the girl around for hours, she finally agreed and told him to come to the Institute the next day.

Ainsley let her charcoal pen trace the shadows of his jaw and emphasised the curve of his lips before leaning back to inspect her work. Satisfied that she could continue without a model from this point forward, she nodded. "Okay, you can move now."

Matthew let his form slump forward with a relieved groan. The half-Korean rolled her eyes and began highlighting his cheekbones a little more. She let her attention turn to his eyes, the grey copy staring back at her on the paper.

While the rest of his face was bright and happy even in hues of black and grey, his eyes were almost drowning in sadness. The grey spotlighting it even more. 

This was something Ainsley had noticed over the past couple of weeks about the boy. While Matthew pretended to still be his happy and cheerful self, his eyes told another story. Something inside of them was detached and almost broken. Whenever their eyes met, the blonde quickly looked away as if the brunette would be able to discover the deepest secrets of his soul if he didn't.

Her heart shattered at the sight of them now, all dull and grey. Ainsley quickly got out of her seat and made for the small cabinet in which all her art supplies were stored. She rummaged through for a couple minutes before finding what she was looking for, a large wooden box carved with beautiful curved vines. Inside laid a million different colouring pencils all in different stakes by colour. She grabbed the levels holding the greens and the browns before returning to her seat.

Ainsley's focus was solely on colouring the boy's eyes. She grabbed different shades of green and meddled them together to try and fill in the exact shade of her friend's eyes. She didn't need to look at him, those orbs carved into her brain down to the last line of them. Her fingers enclosed around one of her brown pencils and added in the flecks of brown at one could see if they stood close enough to the boy.

The girl finally leaned back and bit her lips as she gazed at the drawing.

"By the Angel," she jumped and turned to find Matthew Fairchild stood behind her.

His face was the epitome of awe as he stepped closer. His chest was brushing her back was his fingers barely ghosted over the cheekbones of his copy. Ainsley anxiously looked up at him. "Leo, this is..." his eyes were wavering and his mouth ajar as he kept staring at the drawing. "This is amazing."

"Really?" 

Matthew turned his eyes to her, those beautiful green eyes under which she always melted. He smiled at her and nodded.

"I'm not even done yet," she averted her eyes to her charcoal stained hands that were twiddling in her lap. 

A pair of hands came and tangled their fingers with hers. "Look at me," Ainsley turned her gazed upward to find Matthew's face looming right over hers, an inch's distance separating them. "I love it."

She couldn't stop the grin that broke onto her face as they stayed where they were, neither making an attempt to back away.

.

MARCUS ASHWOOD LEANED ON THE doorframe of the art's room. Neither his sister, nor the boy with her had noticed him. They were both far too engrossed in each other for that.

"They'll look lovely together, won't they?"

He turned his head to see the translucent form of Jessamine Lovelace. Her hair was flying around her and her dress was fluttering about. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her head tilted to the side as she observed the two teenagers. 

Marcus smiled and turned to look at them again. "I was thinking just that." 

Matthew Fairchild and Ainsley Ashwood were made for each other in the eyes of everyone around them. Everyone knew they would end up together even if they didn't realize it yet.

It was just a matter of time.

.

A/N  
That Past Days is pure Mathley/Fairwood/Ashchild (let me know which ship name you prefer) fluff and I haven't the first clue what the point of it was or what it brings to this story 😅 I just wrote it for no reason. Anyways, I hope you liked this chapter. 

.


	10. IX.

.

DEADLY WINE

No growth of moor or coppice,  
No heather-flower or vine,  
But bloomless buds of poppies,  
Green grapes of Proserpine,  
Pale beds of blowing rushes  
Where no leaf blooms or blushes  
Save this whereout she crushes  
For dead men deadly wine.

—Algernon Charles Swinburne, "The Garden of Proserpine"

.

THE WALLS OF THE NARROW corridor the quartet walked down after entering through a door -that was mostly likely invisible to Mundanes- were draped with red tapestries. It lead them to a door that as it happens was also red. 

Ainsley closed her eyes, the colour reminding her of blood. She shook her head, trying to banish the bloodied sight of Marcus, Barbara and Ariadne from her thoughts. 

She felt Matthew squeeze her hand, her eye fluttering open to see him send her a comforting smile. The girl managed a small one back before listening to his voice explain their whereabouts to Cordelia on his other side. "When this place is not home to the salon, it is a gaming house. There is even a trapdoor in the roof, so that if they are raided by police, the gamesters can escape over the eaves."

Then the door at the end of the hall flew open and Ainsley was met with a pair of familiar eyes that resembled amethysts. There in the threshold looking absolutely dashing in his iron grey suit stood Malcolm Fade, High Warlock of London.

His eyes fell on the half-Korean girl in an instant and a smile graced his lips. Ainsley smiled back and jogged up to him after letting go of Matthew's warm hand. She was immediately welcomed by the warlock's embrace.

"Malcolm," she sighed, content to see her friend again.

The man squeezed her tightly. "It's been too long, my dear."

The brunette hummed in agreement as the warlock settled her back on her feet, his eyes drinking in the others. They finally settled on Anna. "Four of you this time?"

"Four."

"We try to limit the number of Shadowhunters in the salon," the man sighed with a slight shake of his head as he dropped his hands from where they had been resting on Ainsley's waist. "I prefer Nephilim to feel outnumbered among Downworlders, as it is so often the other way around. You do enliven the place, though, as Hypatia reminds me." He side stepped to let them access the salon behind him, the door creaking open wider. "Come in. Are you armed? Never mind, of course you are. You're Shadowhunters."

Anna, Ainsley and Matthew all entered. The half-Korean furrowed her eyebrows when Malcolm paused Cordelia next to him. But she let the worry go -completely aware that she had been worrying about everything and nothing since the incident at Regent's Park- and let her eyes take in the room they had just entered after a short passage through a bronze corridor filled with ruby, emerald, sapphire and gold. 

The eight walls of the octagonal room were painted a deep blue and lined with huge paintings depicting naked people from the time of the Greeks and Romans, all naked, dancing or eating or fighting a giant monster with mismatched limbs -because who needs gear or protective armour when one can fight a monster as bare as the day they were born? It's not like they could get hurt. 

There sat Downworlders. Werewolves and Vampires and Warlocks and Fae, all of them together, laughing and chatting the night away without prejudice. 

It was rare but when this was achieved, it was beautiful to look at. Just like at the Devil Tavern.

She looked over at the string quartet playing on the stage. The violinist caught her eye and winked on of his gold-green eyes at her in greeting. She smiled at him with a small wave.

Cordelia's voice however, brought her attention back to her group. "I simply cannot see why one would wish to picnic in the nude. There would be ants in dreadful places."

Anna and Ainsley both laughed. 

"Cordelia, you are a breath of fresh air," Anna said.

A woman in a deep crimson gown approached them. In her hand was a silver tray on which stood crystal flutes filled to the rim with champagne. She smiled a dangerous smile with her fangs. "Champagne?"

Anna took a glass, thanking her. Matthew grabbed two, handing one to Ainsley who sent him a small smile. But it quickly vanished when he emptied his flute in one gulp and took another one. She quickly brought her own glass to her lips, making sure he didn't catch the frown that creeped onto her lips. 

Matthew's ability to consume so much alcohol was becoming worse and worse with time. For a time, Ainsley convinced herself it was a phase that would pass. It was part of the reason she didn't try to stop him as much. Because she hoped he would stop on his own.  
Yet now, she didn't share the same sentiment she had a year ago. The events of the past couple of days had skyrocketed the blonde boy's drinking, taking the young girl's worry up high with it.

Ainsley just wished Matthew would tell them what happened for him to turn to alcohol the way he did and stop shutting them out.

She was brought out of her thoughts by the boy that invaded them as he looked at Cordelia in question. "What's that little smile of yours? You look as if you're about to laugh."

When the half-Korean turned to her, she did indeed look like she was about to laugh. The redhead to a sip of champagne instead of answering. "What of it?" She herself questioned at noticing Matthew's raised eyebrows and smirk.

"Most girls would be afraid," he stated before hastily adding. "I mean, not Leo or Anna. Or Lucie. But most."

"I don't frighten easily," declared Cordelia.

"I'm beginning to sense that." 

Ainsley hit it arm to which he yelped. "Don't be rude," she ordered.

"Yes, ma'am." His green eyes caught sight of something and his lips tugged upwards. Ainsley's black orbs moved to see what he was observing and let a small smile of her own stretch the length of her lips. 

There stood Anna, her head close to one of luscious black locks that were secured with an ivory comb. Her and the vampire girl -one that Ainsley knew as Lily Chen- laughed together.

It was remarkable how much Anna changed when she finally began owning up to who she was. Her confidence oozed off of her in gallons, leaving a trail behind her that people desperately wanted to absorb but couldn't. That and broken hearts.

But despite the unconventional lifestyle and slight -who am I kidding, rather large- cruelty of the older girl's actions, it made Ainsley smile at just how far Anna Lightwood had come. She couldn't be more proud of her friend.

"Anna can seduce anyone," Matthew spoke in a quiet voice to the newest member of their group. "Anyone at all. It's her talent."

"Not my only talent, I hope," spoke up Anna, having heard him.

Ainsley twisted her mouth as if she were thinking before mocking saying. "Well, I supposed you do make a good cup of tea as well."

The Lightwood's jaw flew open as she sent her a false look of offense. Everyone chuckled but Ainsley's mind flickered the sight of her brother making the same face.

She closed her eyes when it shifted to an image of the near-corpse state he was in right now. The girl tried to rid herself of the image and bring back the bright eyed and cheerful boy that Marcus Ashwood actually was. 

Luckily, Malcolm Fade appeared out of nowhere and pulled her from the trap that was her own mind. He dismissed Lily and turned to the oldest of the group. "Hypatia wishes to see you, Anna. She has a friend visiting from out of town who has requested to meet you."

"And this friend is visiting from where?" A smirk curved her mouth to one side.

"The seaside," Malcolm informed. "Do come, you know how Hypatia gets."

Anna followed the warlock after a wink to her companions and quickly faded into the crowd and disappeared.

"She's so beautiful," Cordelia looked almost mesmerised. "Anna, I mean."

Matthew raised an eyebrow. "Anna has a quality. The French would call it jolie laide."

"Pretty-ugly?" Ainsley scrunched up her face in adorable confusion. French was a language she didn't have much mastery on but she was trying to learn it with Matthew's help -since it was the only language other then English that he was fluent in.

"She's not ugly!" The half-Persian girl exclaimed.

"It doesn't mean that," Matthew sighed patiently. "It means unusually pretty. Oddly beautiful. It denotes having a face with character." Ainsley noticed his green eyes observing the girl with them with almost scientific interest. He then said, "Like you have."

Cordelia tilted her head to the older girl in confusion. Her eyes also held the question of whether or not Matthew had just complimented her or insulted her. The brunette shrugged with the shake of her head. She wasn't too sure herself.

The werewolf who had winked at Ainsley, Claude Kellington, passed by them with another tray of champagne. He smiled and the girl smiled back. But then pursed her lips when Matthew swapped out his empty glass his empty flute for a fresh one. 

He took a sip as Claude left them, his arm lazily dropping around Ainsley's shoulders. And as much as the girl hated his drinking, his embrace was something she could never say no to. She laid her head down on his shoulder, nuzzling into him. She enjoyed the heat that radiated of him and the smell of pine, champagne and cologne that drifted of him.

"Do you remember how I asked you about your mother at the ball?" Cordelia suddenly spoke.

That shifted the Ashwood girl and Fairchild boy's attention to her from where they had both been focused on each other. On how Ainsley fit perfectly into Matthew's side as if she were made to be the one he held for the rest of their lives.

The boy didn't let it deter him though. Instead he sarcastically smiled, "I always enjoy thinking about my mother at these sorts of parties."

"Your mother is the Consul," Cordelia stated.

Both older teenagers glanced at each other before the boy nodded. "I had noticed that, yes."

"And she is currently in Idris, where they are preparing to try my father."

At that his green eyes narrowed. "I thought—" Matthew didn't finish his statement but rather shook his head. The golden locks sagged in front of his eyes and made Ainsley's heart flutter.

Hers wasn't the only heart that was fluttering apparently. She turned her head to the side at the sound of giggles and found a group of vampires ballerinas all staring at Matthew. Their eyes were taking him in, his toned arms, his detailed face, his luxurious locks of golden hair. Ainsley could hear the swoons their hearts were singing even though they stood across the room. 

But none of them seemed to notice the girl he had his arm around. And said girl felt her chest burn with jealousy that left a bitter taste in her mouth. 

"-isn't that right, Leo?"

The girl's head snapped back to face Matthew so quick that she was surprised she didn't get whiplash. His green eyes bore into her, trapping her soul as she blinked. "What?"

A lazy smile played on this pink lips of his. "Did you hear a word I just said?" Amusement laced his voice.

Ainsley cringed a little and shook her head. A couple of strands had escaped their ribbon and now framed her delicate face, amplifying her beauty as she said. "Sorry, I got distracted. What did you say?"

"I was wondering what you thought about me and how I went about life."

"I think you're wonderful," Ainsley smiled warmly. It was the kind of smile that only made its appearance on her face on rare occasions. "Though, I would think you're even more wonderful if you didn't drink as much."

She looked away and took a sip of her champagne. She didn't noticed that his gaze stayed on her, an indecipherable look in its green confines.

But luckily for her, Cordelia Carstairs was already proving to be the hero she desired to be when she interjected. "There is something I don't understand," saving the half-Korean for any comment she might have answered one of Matthew's possible questions with. "Why haven't they tried my father with the Mortal Sword yet? Then they would have proof he's innocent."

The two older teenagers startled a little at that. "They haven't done that yet?"

When the redhead shook her head at the girl's question, the blonde raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Indeed. It makes little sense to possess a magical object that forces the holder to tell the truth if you aren't going to use it in criminal trials."

Ainsley didn't even try to stop her facepalm at the boy's words. You don't remind a young girl -or boy- that their parent was being tried for a crime when they were trying to save said parent. 

How on Earth had she gained the title of the one without tact? With the way this was going, Ainsley Ashwood was a nice empathetic person. A far cry from the cold and sarcastic young women she was considered by everyone that wasn't family.

She noticed Cordelia swallow thickly before saying. "We have very little information, but my brother does have school friends in Idris. He has heard they do not plan to use the Mortal Sword in the trial. Do you think you could convince your mother that they must?"

Matthew looked at her thoughtfully. His hand placed his empty glass onto an tray that passed by. He went to grab another one but one look at Ainsley's face made him stop. With a soft exhale, his arm pulled Ainsley even closer to him, her cheeks as red as cherries. "You are very upset about this, aren't you?" He turned to Cordelia.

"Wouldn't you be if Henry was wrongfully convicted of a crime and you had no information?" Ainsley tilted her head up and rested her chin on the boy's shoulder to gaze at the sharp lines of his face.

Cordelia nodded in agreement. "It is my family. If my father is found guilty, we will not just lose him, we will be as the Lightwoods were after Benedict's death. Everything we have will be stripped from us. Our name will be disgraced."

"Do you care that much? About disgrace?"

"No," Cordelia's response was immediate, earning a soft smile from her fellow half-Brit. "But my mother and brother do, and I do not know if they would survive."

"All right," Matthew sighed. "I will write to my mother in Idris. Though, she's more likely to reply if the letter is from Leo here."

The girl rolled her black eyes and pushed away from the boy. "Oh shove off. Just because I kept badgering her about the whole no-demons-in-London incident doesn't mean she won't answer you."

Cordelia didn't seem to care who would be writing the letter. Her face just lit up with gratitude. "Thank you," she said and quickly added. "But please have her write back to Lucie or Ainsley. As long as it goes to the Institute. I don't want my mother to see the reply before I do, in case she says no."

Matthew frowned glancing over at Ainsley who bore the same look. She knew the younger girl was just preparing herself in case she didn't get the answer she wanted but it still stung that she thought Charlotte might refuse.

Matthew was quick to defend his mother. "My mother would not—" He never did finish his sentence and just sighed. Ainsley followed his green eyes yet again to see Lily waving them over.

"Anna's signal," she breathed. 

The boy nodded. "We must go."

"Go where?"

"Into the heart of it all," Matthew announced with a small smirk tugging up a corner of his lips. His arm gestured to the direction in which they had watched Anna disappear.

Ainsley smiled and walked ahead, turning her head back slightly and warn her new friend. "Brace yourself. Warlocks can be as tricky as faeries if they set their minds to it."

And with that, they were of to meet someone who might help solve their problem and possibly help her brother and parabatai's sister that lay between life and death back at the London Institute.

.

THE ROOM THEY ENTERED THROUGH a swinging cabinet looked like a golden cavern. Everything was gold. From the ceiling down to the floor, there was no trace of any other colour. The gilded tables were home to many treasures like clockwork creatures encrusted with gemstones, weapons forged by the most delicate faerie touch, fruits carved out of precious stones. With them stood a glossy wooden box on which an serpent biting its own tail stared up at the everyone. 

A small shudder went through Ainsley at the memory of the tales her parents and foster parents had told her about the Pandemonium club and the adventures of their youth.

At the other side of the room rested a four-poster that also happened to be covered in metallic threads of copper, brass and -you guessed it- gold. And at the very edge of the bed, in her gold dress sat Hypatia Vex, looking like a queen on a throne. Ainsley had almost forgotten how much the bronze haired warlock loved gold. 

Malcolm was there too. And Anna who looked rather comfortable in her velvet and gold covered divan she had settled herself onto.

"Welcome, little Shadowhunters," Malcolm announced. "Few of your kind ever see the inner chambers of Hypatia Vex."

Hypatia tilted her head at Cordelia making the brunette girl think of a cat. "Is she welcome, I wonder? Let her approach."

Ainsley gently squeezed Cordelia's hand that had found her own. The two girls advanced side-by-side, Matthew next to the half-Korean. The girls' skirts swirled among the ornate and pearl-encrusted chairs and tables. 

Hypatia patiently watched them with her star shaped pupils. "I cannot say I care for the idea of so many Nephilim infesting my salon. Are you interesting, Cordelia Carstairs?" When the red-haired girl hesitated, the warlock continued. "If you have to think about it, then you're not."

"That hardly makes sense," Cordelia argued. "Surely if you do not think, you cannot be interesting."

Ainsley had to bring her hand on top of her mouth the stifle her laugh. The patron of the salon was also stunned, blinking a couple of time. "I suppose you may stay a moment." She then spoke with a smile.

"Good work, Cordelia," Anna praised as she sat upright. "Arabella, how are the drinks coming on?"

That was when Ainsley noticed the faerie that stood in the alcove. She stood at a sideboard. Her hands were quickly moving around and adding different coloured liquids to goblets and glasses from vials and decanters.

"Just ready, darling!" Arabella called. She began to walk over holding the drinks. Her gait was slightly wobbly as she gave handed the beverages out. Ainsley sent her a tight-lipped smile when she got her drink. She couldn't stop the disappointment that sang in her heart when she saw Matthew's eagerness to getting his own drink. 

Him not drinking more for the rest of the evening seemed too good to be true. She watched the whirlpool she was created in her glass with sad eyes and sighed through her nose. Matthew seemed to have heard her, leaning close to her ear. "Are you alright?"

His breath tickled her neck and ear. The girl tried to keep herself from turning pink and turned her black eyes to meet his green ones. She should tell him the real reason but couldn't. It's not like it would change anything, he'd only end up drinking more later. At least here she could more or less monitor him. So instead the Ashwood said. "Just worried." She turned her gaze away and down.

"Hey," she turned her eyes to his again, "we'll figure something out. I promise."

"Matthew-"

She was broken of by a giggle. They both turned to see Anna with a giggling Arabella in her lap. But the faerie's legs were what caught her attention. They were bare safe for the simmering scale pattern that threaded over them. They looked like a crystal when it was held under the sun.

Ainsley's didn't know what she looked like but she was pretty certain her jaw was hitting the ground. It was so rare to see a mermaid out of water. It was a life accomplished if you ever had the honor of crossing one. 

Arabella noticed both hers and Cordelia awes gazes and casually shrugged. "I have not been on land for many years. The last time I visited this ugly city, the Downworlders and Shadowhunters were trying to form the Accords. I was not much impressed with Nephilim then, and I have not been fond of Shadowhunters since. Still, exceptions can be made."

Thirty years. That's how long she hadn't been on the ground. Three whole decades.

Anna's nimble fingers worked through her blue-green locks as the mermaid inclined her body back against hers. "My lovely, your hair is like a beautiful stream. Because there are fish in it."

Upon close inspection, the half-Korean girl's black eyes did notice the tiny fish swimming up and down the strands of hair as if they were water. She didn't get to admire much though because the faerie bound to her feet to get more drinks.

Her attentiveness was once again stolen by Malcolm Fade however when he said, "We know why Anna brought you, Matthew and Ainsley," stated the man before pointing to the blonde boy. "You are amusing. And we just adore you around here my darling," he sent Ainsley a friendly wink to which she rolled her eyes but not without affection. For some reason, Downworlders were more likeable and approachable for her. She didn't feel the need to open her quipping beak and unleash a flood of nasty comments about her honest thoughts to them. Mostly because her honest thoughts were mostly compliments. 

"But is there a reason this young Carstairs girl is accompanying you tonight?"

"Because we need your help," Cordelia instantly replied.

The room split then. On one hand, the Downworlders broke into hysterical laughter as though the redhead had spoken the funniest joke in the world. One the other hand, the Shadowhunters all looked pained and wincing.

"Magnus Bane would help them," stated Hypatia. "And Daci. That is why they have come. Magnus and Daciana have made them believe a warlock will always help them."

"Magnus and Daci are not here," Malcolm's purple eyes turned remote as he let out a long breath. "I bear you no ill will, child, but I loved a Shadowhunter once and it brought me only sorrow."

"She became an Iron Sister, and broke his heart," Hypatia completed.

"Oh," was all Cordelia seemed to be able to respond and Ainsley could hardly blame her. 

The Iron Sisters were the weapons makers of the Nephilim. They kept to themselves, locked away in the Adamant Citadel and crafted the seraph blades and rune engraved weapons of the Shadowhunters thanks to their connection to the Angels. But much like Silent Brothers, they couldn't marry. The secrets they guarded were far too precious to fall and could end the Nephilim were they to fall into the wrong hands. 

Ainsley used to want to be an Iron Sister until she was six. That was when she learned that they couldn't get married. And just the idea of being alone and cold like that made her heart shatter. She quickly changed her goal to being the best Shadowhunter in the world.

"That seems very sad." Cordelia offered.

"Indeed," Malcolm nodded. 

"I'm sorry about that, Malcolm. Truly."

"I appreciate that, my dear," he sent the brunette a soft smile. "But unfortunately, our kind and yours are best apart, whatever Daci or Bane might say."

"I have not met Bane," Hypatia mused, her fingernails that were painted -surprise, surprise- gold tapping together. "Daciana's a sweetheart though. But before they last left London they helped the Nephilim, but do they recall their graciousness, or do they only expect help at the first sign of trouble?" The stars in her eyes flashed a little as her gaze turned to Matthew and Ainsley. The girl couldn't help but tangle her fingers with her friend's at that. "I let you come to my salon because you amuse me, Matthew Fairchild. Because you are a child—a silly and beautiful child, who touches the fire because it is lovely, and forgets that it will burn him. As for you Ainsley Ashwood, there is a purity to your soul. You are kind and one cannot help but adore you." Say that to everyone in the London Enclave, Ainsley thought with a laugh in her mind. They definitely won't share that opinion. "And the pair of you together is quite entertaining to watch. But do not presume that means you can ask for favors."

The young girl furrowed her eyebrows at the last sentence in confusion. Why did Hypatia find it entertaining to watch her and Matthew?

She didn't get around to inquiring about it since Anna had raised an eyebrow and suggested. "It might be amusing for you to find out what it is they want,"

"As if you don't already know," Hypatia fondly looked at the Lightwood girl.

"What if we did something for you?" Cordelia suddenly challenged. The mermaid was back with the last of the drinks, placing them in front of the warlocks. "What if I saved your lives?"

"Charming," the star eyed warlock all but drawled out sarcastically. "But we are not in any danger."

"I disagree."

As quick as a cheetah, the half-Persian Shadowhunter drew Cortana from her back and struck down Hypatia's flute. Wine and crystal rained down on the gold threads of the carpet. Her attention and blade then when to Arabella. "It's a pity," Cordelia commented, the point of her sword steadily pointed at the woman's throat. "I've never met a mermaid before. I wish you hadn't turned out to be a poisoner."

Ainsley was suddenly very grateful that she had opted for swirling the drink around but not actually drinking it. The same could not be said for Matthew who loudly let his glass slam on the table. He had drained it within seconds of getting his hands on it. And now he was gawking at his new friend with slight fear in his eyes as he squeezed Ainsley's hand. "Poison?"

"Only for the warlocks," Cordelia assured. "It was them she was trying to kill."

Ainsley let out a small sigh of relief and turned her eyes back to Matthew. He also looked relieved but there was also something else in his eyes. Dare she say, a twinge of disappointment?

The questions that began scribbling down in her head paused though at hearing the outrage shaking in the voice of the patron of the salon. "May I ask where you came to this wild conclusion?"

"My mother knows a great deal about medicinal plants, and she shared her knowledge with me," the youngest person in that room stated in such a calm manner that Ainsley couldn't help but applaud her in her ever working mind. "There is a plant cultivated by the mermaids, an underwater variety of deadly nightshade, which they will not sell even at the Shadow Markets. One taste is death. I saw her sprinkle those blossoms in your cups."

Purple sparks shone on the carpet in an entrancing manner with a wave of the High Warlock's hand. It was almost a thing of beauty to watch the wine that stained the ground disappear in a puff of purple smoke. 

The faraway look in his eyes joined his voice as he softly and nostalgically spoke. "I was a child in Cornwall long ago, where Atropa belladonna grows wild. I am an expert in the uses of deadly nightshade, and I have seen its cousin deadly nightsea before. Miss Carstairs is right. She has saved our lives."

"Seize the mermaid," Hypatia gritted through clenched teeth.

Anna quickly got to her feet with the stealth and agility of a cat. Her dagger was out as she approached the woman she had just been seducing. With bared teeth the mermaid went to fish into her bodice but Anna was quick to grab her wrist and twist it at a painful angle. From the fingers, tumbled a sea horn, this point sharp enough to cut through bone.

Ainsley went and picked it up with a disbelieving laugh. "Unbelievable," she shook her head. Her black eyes flashed almost dangerously as she looked front the weapon to its owner.

"Let me end my life," Arabella angrily fizzed, twisting and turning in attempts to get free. But she couldn't seem to have worse luck because Anna Lightwood help fast, one arm around her neck. "Let me die with honor as sea people do."

"Oh really?" There was so much sarcasm in Ainsley's tone it almost made everyone in the room recoil and not just Arabella. "I didn't realise that poisoners had this so called honor. After all, why pick up a weapon when you can just hide behind a flower?"

"You intended to poison me and Malcolm Fade. And to what end? What power do you seek?" Hypatia sounded absolutely incandescent, her voice barely keeping from screaming.

"She seeks revenge," Malcolm revealed thoughtfully. "I have heard of you, Arabella. You considered yourself insulted by the Nephilim years ago. It must have been a much greater matter than any of us realized, for when Hypatia told you they were here tonight you sought to pay them back. Hypatia and I would have been dead—warlocks poisoned by Shadowhunters, you would claim. Every Downworlder in London would have been after Nephilim blood."

His eyes were narrowed almost as though he wished to burn her with single glance. 

"You know," Ainsley spoke again. All eyes shifted to her again. "Shadowhunters may be terrible, but at least when they plan on murdering someone or something, they don't make a trick out of it and hide their intentions. And despite the horror and brutality of it, there actually is a kind of honor to it."

A beat passed. No one could really disagree with her though it was slightly worrying.

Hypatia was the first to snap out of her stunned silence. Her features froze to stone as though she had just gazed into Medusa's deadly eyes. She grabbed a golden bell and shook it daintily. After the rings bounced of the walls a couple times, a lovely blue-skinned faerie poked her head through the door. "You rang, mistress?"

"Hyacinth. Have the guards take this mermaid away and put her in the wine cellar."

"Please reconsider putting a poisoner in the wine cellar," pleaded Matthew. "I beg of you, for the sake of my future visits."

A part of Ainsley felt that maybe they ought to put Arabella in the wine cellar. That way Matthew wouldn't drink anything out of fear of being poisoned.

Her wishes obviously wouldn't come true though. "Put her in the Whispering Room, then." Hypatia'a hand wagged about dismissively. "She shouldn't be able to cause any trouble there; we'll take her to the Spiral Labyrinth shortly."

Two guards in coats braided with gold entered. They took the mermaid out of Anna's grip and escorted her out. "And then?" Cordelia questioned. "What happens to her?"

"A trial. A Downworlder matter of no interest to you. It will be fair. Downworlders are always fair." There was a certain coolness to Hypatia's voice that didn't go unnoticed by the four Shadowhunters in the room.

Anna was quick to intervene, nonchalantly cleaning of her cuffs. "Then you should have little issue with offering Cordelia assistance."

"Since, you know. She did save your life." Ainsley added while lifting a shoulder.

"Ainsley and Anna are right," Malcolm sighed, his head slightly bowed. "A debt is a debt. What is it you wish for help with, Nephilim?"

Ainsley stood back next to Matthew as he spoke out the narrative of their lives. What had happened at the picnic, the attack by demons in sunlight, the Shadowhunters who lay motionless and dying in the Infirmary because of a poison even the Silent Brothers couldn't cure and James' vision of the Shadow Realm. He had grabbed Ainsley's hand as he spoke, probably noticing her tense frame. Her muscles unclenched slightly at the soothing circles his thumb caressed onto the back of her hand. 

The bronze-haired warlock raised an eyebrow. "Your friend saw a shadow land nobody else can see? Is he the child of the shape-changing warlock girl, and the Shadowhunter mad enough to marry her? I knew that would be trouble."

Ainsley entire frame tensed again, though this time out of anger rather then unease. Gone was the kind smile that had lined the girl's lips earlier. It was now replaced by a face so cold that she might as well have been and ice statue.

"That's my family you're talking about, Hypatia. And I'm pretty sure that Matthew will be able to tell you a couple things about what happens when someone speaks ill about my family." The brunette all but seethed.

Matthew didn't look that much better in hiding his rage. And he could tell way more then just a couple things about what happened when one spoke ill of those Ainsley Ashwood cared about. She was a force to be reckoned with.

Sensing the aggravation of her companions, Cordelia quickly spoke up. "He can indeed see what others cannot. It is a rare talent."

"So this is a kind of demon that comes in daylight. And transmits a poison your scholars have never seen before." Malcolm summarised, a wary look sent in Ainsley's direction.

"If such demons were free in London, it would not be good for anyone," Anna attached.

"Of course, all demons come from other worlds," Hypatia stated. "But if you think that as the children of demons we are intimately familiar with their geography and those who dwell in them, you are quite mistaken."

Ainsley shook her head. "What is it with people always assuming things instead of letting one explain what they actually mean?"

"We are not insulting you, Miss Vex," Cordelia agreed. "But you have your ear to the ground of Downworld. Nothing happens in it that you do not know. If there was other word of these strange demons..."

"There is not," the woman spoke with a certain firmness to her voice. "All discussion has been about the lack of demons in London, in fact, and how strange it is."

"Ragnor called it 'the calm before the storm,'" Malcolm mentioned before adding on, "but he is a doomsayer at the best of times."

"Well, they seem to be returning," Anna remarked. "A cluster of Shax demons appeared in Seven Dials just the other day."

"And Deumas demons were encountered in the City." Ainsley put in.

Matthew shook his head distastefully, almost certainly thinking about his ruined waistcoat. "Nasty, messy sorts of creatures."

"Ave Atque Vale, Matthew's fallen waistcoat," The Ashwood girl placed a hand over her heart and hung her head theatrically.

The boy glared playfully while she only smiled back innocently. The two warlocks watched them with small smiles before exchanging a look. 

"There was a rumor," Malcolm finally said, "though it was only a rumor, mind, that some sort of powerful individual—a warlock, perhaps—put out the word among the demon groups that London was to be avoided."

Ainsley blinked at that information. She had actually been right about why there weren't any demons in London?

Anna sent her an impressed look, having been one of the people who had actually seen her research. But something did irk her about the situation. "Since when have demons ever listened to anyone?"

"As I said, a rumor." The purple-eyes warlock lifted his shoulders. "Besides, in such a situation, it seems wise to leave well enough alone."

"Don't you think that the time for leaving well enough alone has passed?" The half-Korean girl arched an eyebrow.

"These sunlight demons may be a harbinger of worse to come for us all; surely we should work together to discover if that is the case?" Cordelia stated.

Hypatia looked extremely annoyed. "I detest it when Shadowhunters make sense." She exhaled deeply. "Ragnor Fell is back in London, and he has often worked with Shadowhunters in the past. He knows a great deal about demon worlds, having made himself a student of dimensional magic. If there is a dimension that breeds demons who can withstand sunlight, he would know about it."

"It does seem a place to start," Matthew commented. "How do we find him?"

"I will send him an urgent message," the dark-skinned woman assured. "He will contact you. Now go," she settled down in her chair as if she had aged a century in a single conversation. "I find myself weary of angels."

The four Shadowhunters didn't have to be told twice. They made quick work of exiting the Hell Ruelle. The fresh wind hit Ainsley's face as soon as the door opened onto Berwick Street and pushed a couple strands of her hair out of her face. 

She inhaled deeply as many thoughts crossed her mind. The biggest one was 'Thank Raziel that Downworlders hate demons as much as Nephilim'. It was a known fact that demons were bad wether you had angel blood or demon blood. They were depraved and deplorable creatures that couldn't tell the difference between the two kinds of beings.   
Then the thought about how her theory about the absence of demons in her city also lingered pridefully in her brain. 

And then there were the unwelcomed thoughts that were trying to carve their way into Ainsley's mind with a hammer. Thoughts of Marcus lying cold, thoughts of James meeting Grace, thoughts of Matthew Fairchild and his unhealthy habit of drowning in spiced whiskey and gin.

Ainsley almost turned and kissed Hyacinth, the blue-skinned faerie from earlier when she called, "Nephilim!" and broke her out of her own mind. The faerie let her eyes wander around her her lips turned up in disgust at the sight of carriages, grey buildings and gaslights. She seemed to recall she had a task to complete and turned to Matthew, handing him a bundle of velvet fabric. "Fade wished you to have this. He is grateful for what you all did. What did you do?" she inquired as though she couldn't help herself. "I've never heard of a warlock being grateful before."

Anna smirked with a wink. "I'll tell you the story in a moment."

Cordelia, Ainsley and Matthew all blinked at her in bafflement. Hyacinth however only giggled with a deep blush before returning to the salon.

Anna turned to her companions who were gazing at her with raised eyebrows. "I'm going to linger a bit longer," Anna informed lazily. "You two can take the carriage; I'll make my own way home."

"How will you get home?" The Ashwood furrowed her eyebrows.

"I have my ways, dear Annie. Though I do appreciate the concern."

The brunette smiled a little before going to hover over Matthew's shoulder. She impatiently bounced on her heels, waiting for him to unwrap the velvet. When he finally pulled back a corner of the velvet, he couldn't help but let out a low whistle as she looked like a child on Christmas morning. There lay half a dozen carefully crafter faerie blades, so fine and delicate that one might be doubtful of the amount of damage they could cause. 

"A real gift." Ainsley looked at him to find that he was already gazing at her with a smile. There he was, looking like an angel again under the spotlight of the gas powered lamps that lined the streets.

He turned his gaze back to the blades and wrapped them up before safely tucking them into his inner jacker pocket. It took all of Ainsley's self-control not to reach into it and grab them.

"I would never have guessed Arabella was engaged in poisoning." He commented, his green eyes turning to Anna.

"I told you earlier," Anna stated as they reached the carriage, a smirk on her lips. "I never do court dull girls."

.

A/N  
I seriously have to stop underestimating the size of these chapters.   
For some reason, this one was a little harder for me to write 😬 especially towards the end but it could have been worse. I sincerely hope you all liked it.   
And I cannot thank you guys enough for the 1K! 😍 I am so grateful that you chose to read my story! It just blows my mind and I really love every single one of you!  
And tell me you thoughts about the story, I'd love to know what you think 😉   
See you for the next one, me lovelies 💕

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	11. X.

.

LOYALTY BINDS

Close, side by side, from morn till night,  
Kissing and dalliance their delight,  
Whilst thou from human solace flying  
With unrequited love art dying.

—Nizami Ganjavi, Layla and Majnun

.

WORRY ICED AINSLEY'S BLOOD WHEN Anna's carriage rattled onto Percy Street that evening. 

Cordelia and Matthew were still talking about the evening, the young girl asking him questions as they kept looking at the faerie blades. Neither of them had noticed the herd of people standing at the bottom of Anna's building. 

But what especially worried Ainsley was the sight of her parabatai's tall frame. She didn't even wait for Matthew to step down and assist her through her skirts, throwing the door open before the carriage even completely stopped.

She quickly ran up to the group, her arms quickly getting thrown around Thomas. The boy quickly caught her, holding her tightly in camaraderie and comfort. After a couple of seconds, he placed her back on her feet.

The half-Korean let her black eyes analyse the group which consisted of Lucie, Christopher, Thomas and Alastair Carstairs. A horrible thought suddenly hit her and she paled. "Oh Raziel, has something happened? To Barbara or -"

"No," Lucie quickly assured her foster sister.

Ainsley let out a small exhale of relief, passing a hand over her face. She hated this. Not being able to do anything and trying to prepare herself for the worse. 

A hand found the small of her back and didn't need to look to know it was Matthew Fairchild. Only he was capable of makes her calm down with a single touch. 

"What are you doing here?" He questioned, his tone serious as it rarely was.

"It is urgent. James is in danger."

Ainsley groaned and threw her head back in annoyance. "What the bloody hell has that idiot done now?"

.

THE ASHWOOD GIRL WAS HALF prepared to let James fend of the Cerberus demons on his own. But she knew that she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she did.

That didn't mean she was angry though.

Despite that, she was the first out of the carriage with Lucie when they reached their destination of Battersea Bridge. They both had their weapons out were advancing towards where they saw the herd of demons forming.

When the two foster sisters distinguished two creatures about to dive at their brother, they shared a look and jumped into action. Ainsley grabbed a small throwing knife she kept and Lucie her throwing axe and in synch, they threw their weapons.

Each hit its mark, raining ichor onto the ground. 

James whirled around with wide gold eyes and looked at them in awe.

The others were behind the two girls and they jumped into the battle in no time. Alastair jumped onto the railing, fending them of with his blade as the others sliced and diced the demons from the ground. 

Thomas and Ainsley fell into their normal way of fighting side-by-side -more like back-to-back but you get the general idea. The girl quickly sliced one of the Cerberus demons through the middle just as it was about to pounce on her with its frog-like legs. 

She raised a leg to kick another back and let Thomas throw it into the river with his bolas. 

It was a comfortable routine. Their moves complimenting the others. They were one machine that fought bravely and fiercely to protect those they loved. 

Her eyes found Grace Blackthorn at one point, leaning back against the railing of the bridge and clutching one of James' throwing dagger for dear life. The half-Korean didn't even try to hide her scoff and eye roll at the blonde girl. Thomas heard her turned to ask but understood when he caught where her eyes were. He couldn't honestly say he felt any different from his parabatai. 

What about Grace Blackthorn made James think, 'her'? It was really beyond them. The girl couldn't fight her way out of a paper bag!

They shared a quick look before returning to their task if fending of demons. 

The fight went on and Ainsley somehow found herself away from Thomas and rather next to Christopher as he sliced down a demon behind James. Her eyes slightly furrowed at his crackling seraph blade that glowed a little too bright.

James was also confused by it. "Christopher, what is that thing?"

"A seraph blade!" The bespectacled boy brightened up. "I have tried to enhance it with electricity!"

Ainsley made an impressed face as she let her jingum plunge into a demon's chest. "Does that work?" She inquired, sincerely interested.

"Not at all," the boy admitted with a sad expression. That was when a demon appeared in his face, baring its hideous brown teeth at him. 

Ainsley didn't manage to react quick enough and got thrown to the side roughly. The brunette girl landed on her shoulder, feeling the bone pop out of its socket as she did. She cried out, her face scrunched up in pain. 

But she had to keep going. Ainsley pushed herself to her feet with her good arm in time to see Alastair throw a spear -he was still holding another in his left hand, Ainsley wasn't entirely sure where he had been keep them- at the second demon that had attempted to hurt Christopher. It disappeared in a puff of smoke and black blood.

"You're carrying spears?" She heard James question the older boy incredulously.

"I never leave the house without my spears!"

Everyone paused to give him and odd look -even the demons seemed to take a break to judgementally stare at the half-Persian boy. But as soon as the pause happened, the fighting resumed. Ainsley had found herself holding her own with her dominant hand pressed to her injured shoulder. It was honestly rather hard but she was managing the best she could.

The girl could see Cordelia and Lucie fighting back-to-back like her and Thomas had been doing before, as though they were already parabatai. They seemed to have their own routine going. While Thomas usually trapped the demons with the cords of his bolas and Ainsley stuck them down with her jingum, Cordelia gracefully swung her sword in circles around them, gold staining the air and Lucie dispatched of the wayward creatures of hell that escaped her best friend's blade. 

Matthew was balanced atop the railing of the bridge, offering the girls cover by flinging his Indian chalikars at the demons, thinning the herd.

Ainsley was in the process of carving up one of the demons -that looked unnervingly similar to the tree branches on her family ring- as if it were a turkey on Christmas when she heard Alastair Carstairs yell, "Lightwood! Behind you!"

Now only Alastair Carstairs would be stupid enough to call out 'Lightwood' while a fight was going on. Why stupid you ask? Because there were two Lightwoods present.

And as fate would have it, Christopher Lightwood turned to find that he was currently safe from death's claws and Thomas Lightwood was much too focused with the demon in front of him to pay attention.

"Thomas!" Ainsley yelled, taking of in his direction but not quick enough. The demon lunged at the boy, sinking its razor sharp claws and teeth into his skin. Thomas cried out in pain, his hand reeling back and punching it since he didn't have enough distance to use his bolas. Ainsley mercilessly rammed her blade into its back, letting it disappear in a spill of ichor.

But as much as she might have wanted to, Ainsley couldn't throw her arms around her parabatai in relief. The demons just kept coming. They both found themselves back-to-back again with a silent promise that they were not leaving each other's side again, since they had both managed to get hurt when they had earlier. 

Everyone was fighting with all their might. Alastair kept hurling his spears, Cordelia kept moving Cortana to and fro, even Matthew had left his perch up on the railing and sacrificed his lovely brocade waistcoat -that Ainsley had gifted him a year back, by the way- and was fighting on the ground with them, throwing chalikar after chalikar.

The biggest -and probably baddest- demon then loomed above James. It fell back when James stabbed it. But just as he was about to kill it, James Herondale and everyone around him froze.

"Herondale boy," the demon spoke, "I know you. I know all about you. The blood of demons burns in your veins. Why would you slay those who worship your mother's father? Why destroy your own kind?"

Ainsley felt her sword slump a little in her hold as she watched the exchange with wide black eyes. Worry was bubbling at her stomach. Around her, the others didn't seem much better with Matthew looking ready to commit murder, Alastair with eyes practically identical to hers and Lucie with her hand placed on of her mouth. Cordelia, Christopher and Thomas were nothing short of horrified.

"I am not your kind," James stated shakily, though anyone could notice the tremors that had raked his body.

"You do not know what you are."

"If you worship my grandfather," the shakiness was gone and replaced by steely determination and rage, "then go, in his name. Not back to Chiswick House—back to the dimension you came from."

The demon hesitated, something Ainsley hadn't ever thought possible. After an excruciating amount of time, it declared, "We will go, then, as you say, to show that we honor your blood. But there is one condition."

Ainsley barely held back her frustrated shriek, muttering. "Of course there is."

Thomas nudged her to be quiet as the beast continued. "If you or your friends speak a word of what happened here, tonight, to any member of the Clave, we will return. And your families will pay in blood and death for your betrayal."

"Don't you dare—!" James was cut of by the demon's hideous grin. It mumbled something so quiet that Ainsley couldn't quite pick it up from where she stood. 

And it puffed out in a cloud of black smoke, the others doing the same. Everything went still, safe for the lapping of the river's waters. Everyone was breathing heavily, unsure of what to do except standing still in puzzlement and surprise.

It was only when James Herondale dropped his blade that everyone else also seemed to reanimate. The two younger girls let the weapons drop, Matthew and Thomas both seemed relieved as they let the own forms slump a little. Ainsley could see that Matthew had also been hurt, a trail of blood down his face. Thomas let his arm fall around her shoulders as she burrowed into him, letting out and exhale.

Everyone's eyes however, were solely on James. 

"What just happened?" Christopher finally broke the silence.

Matthew shrugged while trying to swab his wound. "Demons vanished."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Ainsley called over at him.

The blonde sent her a playful wink. "The leader seemed to feel it was an old friend of James's grandfather." He added.

"Oh, the demony grandfather?" Christopher wondered.

James sent the boy a look. "Yes, obviously the demony one, Christopher."

"The other one's Welsh," added Thomas, as though that cleared things up -and it kind of did.

But Ainsley Ashwood being Ainsley Ashwood said, "Hey, that doesn't mean anything. For all we know, Jamie and Lu's granpapy Edmund created a demon cult."

Lucie giggled a little while the boys all rolled their eyes and shook their heads at her antics with fond smiles. There they were, the Ashwood theatrics. Cordelia smiled amused, completely opposite to Alastair who was looking at her as though she had grown a third arm.

He turned to James with a poor excuse of a smile. "No need to explain about Herondale. I imagine this happens to him fairly often."

Before Ainsley could tell the boy to 'kindly shut up', Cordelia brought her boot down on her brother's Oxfords. The brunette bit her lip to repress her laugh, but she quickly frowned at a certain sight.

"Bloody hell, not her," she muttered for only Thomas to hear as Grace appeared from thin air like a spectre here to haunt them.

"I'm sorry, I don't know how to fight—"

"It's all right," James assured at which his foster sister sent him an incredulous look. It most certainly wasn't alright. Grace Blackthorn was the reason he would have died if they hadn't shown up to defend him!

But James was too big of a lovesick puppy to see it. "It's all right, we'll get you trained properly—"

"James! Grace!" Everyone turned to see Lucie mention the road. And a old black trap appeared, like a carriage of death. In it sat Tatiana Blackthorn. Her dress was made of lace and a lot of skirts and atop her head was perched a ridiculously huge hat decorated with wax fruits and taxidermy birds.

Her beady eyes scanned over the group that consisted of her ward and the youngsters of every family she hated. Lightwoods, Carstairs, Herondales, Fairchilds and Ashwoods. Five families who's names would be written down in history next to her own.

Her body was shaking in fury as she glared at her daughter. "Grace. Get into the trap. Now." The woman seethed.

At the sight of her pale face, James murmured. "You do not need to do as she says. Come back to the Institute with me. I beg of you."

"James. I cannot." Her face was as unreadable as anything. "Walk me to the carriage, please." When the boy seemed hesitant she added, "Please. I mean what I say."

The Herondale boy reluctantly held out his arm and walked with her. 

"Oh, there's no way he's going near that witch without me," Ainsley straightened up.

She ignored everyone calling her back and fussing over her arm and shoulder. She was aware that she needed to set her shoulder back in its rightful place and get an iratze. But her worry for her foster brother and his idiocy overpowered the pain -and the adrenaline hadn't yet left her bones. When she was almost to them, she heard Tatiana hiss, "Leave my daughter alone, Herondale. I don't need you luring her into trouble—"

"The only trouble we encountered was your family's Cerberus demons," James shot back in an angry tone. "I suggest you cease with your threats, unless you wish me to tell the Clave about them."

"My demons?" The woman laughed mirthlessly. "And where are they now, Herondale?"

That was when Ainsley decided to make her presence known. "Dead," they turned to see her approaching, her left hand still tightly clamped over her right shoulder. "We killed them."

"How impressive," Tatiana sneered, her green eyes narrowed at the foster siblings who stood shoulder-to-shoulder. "Tattle away, boy and girl. I'll tell the Clave Grace raised the demons herself. I'll tell them she's deep in black magic studies up to her pretty little ears. I'll turn her loose and throw her back on their mercy with her reputation stained forever. I'll ruin her life, if you want to play that game." She poked her finger into James' chest rather painfully by the look of it. "You care, Herondale. That is your weakness."

"And since when is caring a bad thing? It gives you the strength to persevere for those you love," Ainsley raised an eyebrow.

"Caring just makes people liars, like your father." 

Tatiana smirked when she noticed the shift in Ainsley's composure. The girl stood up straighter and her eyes flickered for a moment while her face let it's cold front falter for a brief second. 

"He was a fine young man, you know. Kind, handsome honest. Until your mother showed up that is," the woman's voice held so much disgust. Ainsley could feel her vision blurring with red. There was something about Tatiana Blackthorn talking about her parents that didn't sit right with her at all. The Blackthorn woman didn't seem to notice the tremor that had began moving through the young girl's body and kept talking. "Then he began caring about her. She turned him into a liar and a cheat. A true whore, real-"

CRACK!

The sickening sound of bone colliding with bone broke through the air, a hard as a whip. Ainsley Ashwood hadn't registered her actions but she definitely didn't regret them when her eyes focused on the world around her again and the blood stopped pumping in her ears. When she came to, the first thing she was was Tatiana cradling her nose, blood spotting onto her dress. Her cold gaze was fixed on the half-Korean. But Ainsley just glared back twice as hard.

She took a small step forward and as she spoke, her voice was so quiet yet so deadly that it would chill even the deadliest demon. "You ever speak ill of my family again, I'll do more then just break your nose."

Tatiana's eyes flared but she wasted no time in scrambling into her carriage and in the blink of an eye, it was clanging down the road in direction of that god-awful house the two Blackthorns lived in. As the carriage distanced itself more and more, the adrenaline slowly left Ainsley's small frame. The pain in her shoulder returned and her hand began shaking, bruises blooming across her knuckles. A small exhale left her as she stumbled only for James to catch her.

"Woah." He let his foster sister lean against him, pressing a gentle kiss into her hair when he noticed who tired and in pain she looked. 

It would have been a complete and total lie to say that the Herondale boy hadn't been surprised by the solid punch Ainsley had struck Tatiana with. But he could hardly blame her. He had thrown someone into the Thames for insulting his mother. 

James was completely aware that his foster sister's mental health wasn't at its peak. So he just held her to him -mindful of her dislocated shoulder- his face buried in the brunette locks that had escaped her braid. "I've got you."

.

THINGS WERE RATHER AWKWARD AND tense as James lead Ainsley back toward where the group was after the Blackthorn carriage had faded into the evening fog.

Alastair was the first to break it. "Well." He began as if he wasn't sure what else to say, "I think it's time for Cordelia and I to be going."

"I cannot go yet," all eyes shifted to Cordelia as she held out her arm. Along her forearm, a livid cut that ran the whole length of it from the peak of her elbow down to her wrist. "I need a healing rune. If I return home like this, Mother will faint."

"Several of us are wounded," Christopher pointed out, his lavender eyes giving Ainsley a particularly worried look. "Unless we want to explain what happened here, and it seems that would be a bad idea, we should probably apply iratzes."

"I agree," Thomas nodded. "Now before we begin, who doesn't mind potentially getting their wrist broken?"

Everyone sent him confused look with a mix of worry that maybe he'd hit his head a little too hard. Ainsley was the only one who understood and smiled at him fondly from where she was still leaning against James for support. 

The tall boy quickly saw that no one understood and rolled his eyes. "Someone needs to let Annie hold their hand while I pop her shoulder back in its socket. But with her inhuman strength, she might break your wrist."

Nobody seemed ready to volunteer, but everyone was particularly taken aback when Alastair Carstairs grumbled, "Oh, bloody hell, I'll do it."

He stomped over to where James was and carefully let Ainsley lean against him and grip his hand. 

Under any other circumstances, the girl might have protested to this. But at the moment her shoulder was throbbing in immense pain and she just wanted it to go away. Besides, she had told herself that she wanted to somewhat forgive Alastair since she understood his reasons for being the way he was -kind of.

Thomas on the brunette's other side, the half-Persian, his hand on her arm. "Ready?"

"No," the brunette admitted. She looked up at the Carstairs boy with a slight wince. "I'm sorry if I hurt you a little too much." He tried to offer her a reassuring smile but she could see the slight terror in his eyes. After a couple deep breaths, the Ashwood girl finally sighed with a nod. "Okay, do it."

"On three," he said and Ainsley took a deep breath her head quickly nodding up and down, her fingers becoming white around Alastair's hand and her teeth practically drawing blood from where they were on her bottom lip. "One. Two-"

"Thomas Lightwood, you bloody bastard!" The girl yelled as he popped her shoulder back in at 'two' instead of 'three'. Everyone watched the scene with different levels of a cringe splattered upon their faces.

The boy winced. "Sorry."

She sent him a quick glare as he took out his stele and placed them to her arm and drawing a few iratzes there. Her gaze turned to Alastair and let go of his hand. "Sorry. Did I hurt you?"

"Not as bad as I thought you might." He admitted which earned him a slight twitching of her lips.

Now that that tense moment was over, everyone began drawing their own healing runes on each other. Lucie smiled excitedly next to Cordelia. "Our first healing rune! A historic moment for a pair of soon-to-be-famous parabatai."

The pain slowly faded from her shoulder, making Ainsley roll it a little to soothe any discomfort as she sent her foster sister a fond look. She let Thomas draw another iratze on her knuckles, which were still bloody and bruised. She then grabbed the stele from him and slightly pushed the fabric of his torn sleeve up to have better access to draw a rune on his arm. 

"I hate to seem ungrateful for the assistance," James spoke up from where he was tending to the cut on Matthew's face, "But what on earth brought you all here? How did you know what was going to happen?"

Ainsley nodded up at her parabatai. "Tall, dark and handsome."

He rolled his eyes with an affectionate smile before turning to the Herondale girl who leaned against a low wall of the embankment, "Lucie."

"I heard about the Cerberus from Jess—Jessamine," Ainsley didn't miss the slight hesitation on the girl's part, her eyes slightly narrowing. "Ghosts, they gossip. So, it seems the demon you killed in the greenhouse had time to multiply, and the new demons came looking for Grace when she left Chiswick." She retold the same tale she told on everyone else on their way to the bridge. 

"There were certainly a lot of them," Cordelia pointed out. "Much worse than just the one in the greenhouse."

"I'm very upset about that, by the way." Ainsley spoke up. "I thought you loved me, Lu. And that we were becoming friends, Cordelia. Truly, I did and then you two went demon hunting without me." Her lips pulled into a cute pout.

The two girls smiled at her apologetically. "We're truly sorry, Ainsley. Next time Lucie and myself decide to go demon hunting, we promise to bring you with us."

"Good."

"Perhaps they all had secret assignations with Grace," Lucie suggested coming back to the task at hand.

"That Blackthorn woman must be mad, letting Cerberus demons run wild in her shrubberies," Alastair snorted. Ainsley turned to him and lifted her stele with raised eyebrows in a silent question. He shook his head. The girl sent him a shrug with a tentative smile.

"You can remove the 'must be'." She stated with distaste. "The woman is definitely mad."

"It's hard to say how much she knew," James mused, gently chiding Matthew as the boy wiggled about and complained. "I'm sure she was aware of the original demon in the greenhouse, but likely not its vengeful progeny."

Christopher had moved near where Ainsley and Thomas stood, his arm casually and comfortably wrapped around the girl. He kissed her hairline and let her lean against him before noting, "She knew enough to come here." But he then added, "Though she may just have been following Grace."

"They disappeared because you told them to, didn't they?" Cordelia questioned, her eyes fixed on James.

"So it seems." James sat back once he was satisfied with his work on Matthew's cheek. There was a certain amount of acid in his voice as he continued, "They went back to whatever dimension Cerberus demons hail from. In the name of my grandfather."

"How nice for you to be related to such an important sort of demon."

Ainsley rolled her eyes at Alastair. "And just when I started thinking you weren't too bad."

A small laugh from him made the girl glance at Matthew. But much to her misfortune, his flask was out and he was sipping from it as if it were a life line. She didn't return his smile, instead settling her head on Christopher's shoulder. The boy glanced down, shifting a little to make sure his friend -who was honestly more like a sister to him- was comfortable. They both turned their eyes, black and lavender to Lucie as she began speaking.

"If it actually cared that James was related to an 'important' demon, it should have said something to me, too," she huffed crossly before declaring, "I am his sister. I do not appreciate being overlooked."

Ainsley fondly smiled at her. James and her shared a look, he too having a smile on his face. That was their Lucie. Calm, intelligent and not at all pleased with the idea of being overlooked.

"They're loyal to the Blackthorn family, in their horrid sort of way," she continued with what Ainsley called her 'thinking' face. "That's why they wanted us not to say anything about what happened tonight."

"Ah, because the Clave wouldn't look too kindly on the Blackthorns breeding a pack of Cerberus demons and letting them chase after Herondale, even though he is very irritating." Alastair spoke.

The Ashwood girl rolled her black eyes, "The Clave, for the most part, are idiots." She stated strongly. She then turned to the half-Persian boy, her finger pointed at him. "And as much as I hate defending that bitch and her ward, the demons were bred by Kit and Tom's horrid grandfather Benedict Lightworm."

Lucie crossed her arms over her chest and huffed, "I already told you this."

"Unpleasant as all that was," Matthew broke of any other arguments that hung onto Ainsley Ashwood and Lucie Herondale's lips -he quite possibly saved Alastair Carstairs from being psychologically attacked by the two foster sisters in doing so- "there is something comforting about fighting the ordinary kind of demon under cover of darkness, rather than poisonous ones that appear during the day."

"Oh!" Cordelia perked up. "That reminds me. We should tell them what Hypatia said, Ainsley, Matthew. That we could speak to Ragnor Fell about the demons in the park."

Everyone's voice rose, voice overlapping and speaking over each other. In the cacophony, Ainsley loudly ordered, "Everyone shut up!"

"Yes, we spoke to Hypatia Vex at the Hell Ruelle." Matthew then began the explanation. "She said she would send Ragnor a message. It is hardly a sure thing."

"Perhaps, but Anna was right. We must speak to more Downworlders regardless. There was much talk of Magnus Bane—"

Matthew broke Cordelia off by longingly sighing, "Ah, Magnus Bane. My personal hero."

"Indeed," James spoke somewhat mockingly, "you once described him as 'Oscar Wilde if he had magic powers,'?"

Ainsley let out a breathy laugh. At the sound Matthew turned to her again. This time she offered a small smile which he returned. They kept gazing at each other while the half-Korean nuzzled her head into Christopher's shoulder. Too engrossed with one another, neither of them noticed the smirks the other three Merry Thieves shared with Lucie.

Their gaze finally broke when Thomas mused. "Magnus Bane threw a party in Spain I attended. It was a little difficult, since I did not know a soul. I got rather drunk."

Ainsley's face bore a look of betrayal. "You got drunk without me?"

"I like to think of it as, I got drunk because I was missing you too much." The boy tried to amend. One look at the girl's face told him it had worked by the way she was trying to bite back her growing smile.

"Is that when you got your tattoo?" Matthew teased. Ainsley's face lit up as she snapped her fingers and pointed at the blonde. Her head was nodding in agreement to his question.

"Ainsley and the boys joke about the tattoo Thomas got in Spain," Lucie spoke in slight offense, "but Thomas will never let me see it. Isn't that the meanest thing you ever heard, Cordelia? I am a writer. I believe I should have the experience of studying a tattoo at close quarters."

"I believe you shouldn't," Thomas declared.

"Is the problem that it is in an unmentionable place?"

Ainsley broke into a fit of laughter as Thomas groaned, "No, Lucie."

Leave it to Lucie Herondale to assume things like that. 

"Lu, he couldn't have gotten it in an unmentionable place even if he wanted to," Ainsley smiled and spoke in a rational tone. "I hear his parabatai is very determined when she wants to be and Thomas is incapable of refusing her anything." She joked.

"Yeah, she's also insufferable." Thomas lightly stated which made the girl's mouth open in mock-offense. 

Her response was cut short by Alastair Carstairs' surprisingly low and bashful voice. "I'd like to see it,"

And what surprised Ainsley more then Alastair's uncharacteristic comment was how Thomas only seemed to hesitate for a second before unbuttoning his shirtsleeve. His fingers carefully and neatly rolled the fabric up to his elbow. Everyone tilted closer to see the unwounded flesh of his arm. 

There sat a compass with a rose in the middle. All four cardinal points were shown by the the tips of dagger blades. The ink had seeped into his skin, telling its own story. It was nothing like the Marks burned into the Nephilim's skin, be it a permanent rune or one that just faded into an outline that intertwined with the others. 

After her parabatai had returned from Spain and told his four greatest friends about this endeavour, Ainsley had found herself often rolling his sleeve up to look at the black and grey inks that bled together. Her dainty fingers would trace over the rose petals or the dagger blades.

Once Thomas had decided to stay the night at the Institute with her. They had both been on her bed. Thomas was casually laying on his side as Ainsley laid on her stomach in front of him. Her legs were bent at the knees and swinging together in the air as her ankles were crossed. One hand was supporting her chin while the other traced the tattoo for probably the hundredth time that evening.

If they hadn't been parabatai, this could very easily ruin Ainsley's reputation. For a woman to be found alone in her bedchamber with a man was quite the scandal. But nothing would happen and nobody other then their family would even know. And even if someone said that Thomas had slept at the Institute, everyone would assume in one of the many vacant rooms. They would never think that maybe the Lightwood boy had spent the entire night in his parabatai's room, both of them talking the night away in the soft glow of a candle.

A question burned her lips and Thomas could tell. His hazel eyes rested on her as her black ones never strayed from his forearm.

"Just ask," he finally smiled. "I know you want to."

The half-Korean shyly met his eyes with a timid smile. "What does it mean?"

"I'm not entirely sure." He confessed. His own gaze fell on the tattoo and his free hand took a hold of Ainsley and guided her fingers along the lines. "I liked it. And, I guess it kind of symbolises a journey, you know?"

"The journey of life." She smiled fondly. The boy lifted his eyes to meet hers as she admitted. "It's beautiful, Thomas."

"I'm glad you like it," he sighed in slight relief. After all, Ainsley opinion was very important to him. He then joked, "You should get the same one, then we'd be matching."

At that the girl had laughed and they divulged into a whole new conversation about all the reasons why Ainsley Ashwood would never get a tattoo.

The brunette broke from her thoughts as a happy Lucie clapped her hands, satisfied that she had finally seen this famed tattoo. Alastair seemed to have choked down a gasp. His dark eyes quickly averted from the tender flesh of Thomas' arm. It was as though he'd just seen a lady undressing rather then a boy roll up his sleeve. Cordelia was the complete opposite of her brother with a kind grin, "I think it is lovely, Thomas. North points up your arm, along the vein that runs to your heart."

Now that she thought about it, that was the case and Ainsley liked it even more. 

"So does that mean you're close friends with Magnus Bane, Thomas?" Inquired Lucie. "Can you reach out to him for help?"

The boy began rolling his sleeve down and shook his head. "He never even made an appearance at the party. But reaching out to Ragnor Fell is a good idea."

"As long as he will keep all this to himself," stated Christopher. Ainsley looked up at him, noticing that his spectacles were hanging on the tip of his nose. She reached up and pushed them up to his bridge. Christopher adjusted them with a small smile sent in her direction. "We cannot tell any Shadowhunters what happened here tonight. We all heard what that demon said."

Everyone's voice bumbled in agreement like hum of one of the new automobiles that Gabriel Lightwood seemed have no faith in. This united sound was cut of by Alastair announcing, "Cordelia and I must depart. As for your little secrets, you cannot trust demons. It does not matter what they claim."

"Alastair, you must promise to keep everything that happened here tonight to yourself." Cordelia sent her brother a look.

"Why should I promise?"

Ainsley felt a comment bubbling at her lips, just aching to break free. But she knew that it wasn't her place and that she needed to let Cordelia do this. "Because even if demons are liars, the risk is too great. The demon said it would target our families if any of us spoke of what happened tonight. Think of Mother and Father." The younger girl's voice was almost cracking with desperation. When the boy still didn't look convinced, the redhead tilted her chin up and declared, "If you do not promise, I will not go home with you. I will stay out all night and be utterly ruined. I will have to marry Thomas or Christopher."

"What ho," Christopher's lavender eyes widened as Thomas let his lips stretch to a smile.

Ainsley also grinned. "Please do! If you marry Tom you'd be my paraba-sister-in-law and if you marry Kit then I can make you my lemon tart chef for life. Either way, it's a win-win situation."

Cordelia giggled a little at her new friend's words before her gaze fell back to her brother. "If you have any concern for our family, you must promise," she nothing short of begged. "Please, Alastair."

Everyone looked at the half-Persian boy expectantly. They awaited his response and the dramatic pause that Alastair let draw out left no doubt in Ainsley's mind that Alastair Carstairs was friends with her brother. He finally rolled his eyes and sighed in defeat. "Very well, I promise," he muttered. "Now come away at once. We have much to discuss when we return home."

The Carstairs siblings bid the group farewell. They shifted in direction of their home to leave, walking along the river banks. As their figures grew smaller and smaller something inside of Ainsley's stomach coiled until she couldn't stay in her spot any longer.

With a frustrated groan, the half-Korean girl left Christopher's comfortable arms and ran after them. When she wasn't too far from them, her voice raised. "Alastair!" She called.

The two siblings turned to face her, both looking rather confounded at the sight of Ainsley Ashwood racing up to them. The boy gave her a particularly startled look since it was his name she called.

As Ainsley came to a halt in front of them, her black eyes rested solely on her brother's best friend. She wasn't sure how to start but she had to express her reason for racing after them. She had to tell Alastair the thoughts that had been tumbling around in a corner of her mind since she was at Anna's. 

"For the longest time," the brunette finally spoke, her hands clenching and unclenching one another in front of her, "I couldn't understand why my brother chose you as his best friend. He's always so kind and you were also mean. I finally understand now and I-" the girl licked her lips before finally sighing out, "I forgive you. Sort of." She cringed a little at her words.

A flash of understanding chorused through Alastair as well. He tended to forget that Marcus and his younger sister were also only half-British much like himself. It was harder to notice since the pair were so integrated in the London Enclave. He didn't realize that Ainsley might also be able to comprehend what he had gone through.

"You forgive me?" Despite his thoughts, there was still a dubious tone in his voice.

The girl rolled her eyes. "I'm extending an olive branch."

"Why?"

A small smirk played on the girl's pink lips. "'Always forgive your enemies - nothing annoys them so much.'" She quoted.

"You do realize that Oscar Wilde was arrested for-"

"Take it or leave it, Carstairs," the girl interrupted.

After a couple seconds of regarding her thoughtfully, Alastair smiled a little. "I'll take it."

.

AFTER AINSLEY REJOINED HER FAMILY and ignored every and all of their questions, the six of them set the sails for the London Institute. It was almost midnight by the time their six sets of feet clapped against the front courtyard of the tall and majestic London Institute. Though much to Ainsley's surprise, the lights were bright instead of dim as they usually were at this hour. 

Her and the Herondales shared a confused look. James silently opened the front door with a finger placed upon his lips. They all creeped up the steps, all suddenly thankful for the thing that was the Soundless rune. 

The light in the parlour was filtering out into the corridor from where its door was wide open and mingling with the witchlights that lit the halls. The closer they got, the louder the sound of the teenagers' impending doom bounced off the walls.

Nid wy'n gofyn bywyd moethus,  
Aur y byd na'i berlau man:  
Gofyn wyf am galon hapus,  
Calon onest, calon lan.

All three Institute residents shared a rather concerned glance with each other. The last thing they wanted after the night they'd just had was for Will Herondale to hold them hostage in their own home and begin retelling the nostalgic tales of his childhood in Wales and the birth of his fear of ducks. Not after the evening they had just had where all they wanted to do was fall face first in a bed and sleep.

"I say we throw James to the lions and make a run for it," Ainsley suggested in a hushed tone.

Lucie nodded, pointing her pointer finger at her foster sister in agreement.

"Why am I the one getting thrown to the lions?" James complained with indignation.

The half-Korean raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because if it weren't for you, we wouldn't be in this situation?"

The boy opened his mouth to argue but couldn't. Knowing he had been defeated, he huffed and averted his golden gaze with his arms crossed over his chest.

He turned back to the group with an idea of his own. "Or we could also swiftly exit and ascend to an upper chamber using a window and a grappling hook."

They all thought it over and nodded in agreement -though Ainsley much preferred her own idea- and began carefully backtracking their steps. It was at that precise moment that Tessa Herondale had to decide to leave the living room. The teenagers all froze under her curious look, the woman's eyebrows raised as she awaited an explanation as to why they were sneaking in like thieves in the night.

The three siblings looked at each other again. They could all hear the same words as clear as if they had been spoken out loud. 

Well, there goes that grappling hook.

Lucie was the first to step forward. Her arms easily snaked around her mother's waist as she hugged her. "Sorry, Mam, we had a late picnic down by the river. Are we in trouble?" The lie slipped past her foster sister's so easily that Ainsley couldn't help the swell of pride that sparked up in her chest. 

"You are all scamps," Tessa accused but not without affection or that lovely smile of hers," but I hope you enjoyed yourselves. We can discuss this later. Your father has a guest. Go in and introduce yourselves. I'll just pop up to the infirmary and be back."

Ainsley kissed her aunt's cheek and hooked arms with Lucie as they followed the boys towards the parlour. When she was certain Tessa was out of earshot, she ducked her head down to whisper to Lucie in a conspiratorial manner. "Looks like I'm not the only one in this family who knows how to lie."

"Who do you think I learned it from?" Lucie smirked in a hushed tone as well.

The two girls giggled as their feet darkened the floor of the living room. They came to a stop next to the boys as their eyes found Will Herondale and his guest. In the velvet chair that sat next to the Shadowhunter's sat a man with a sour look upon his face. His skin was green as ripe grapes and his hair white as freshly fallen snow with small horns peeking out. 

Ragnor Fell, the former High Warlock of London who had previously taught the Merry Thieves and their Maid Marian when they were at the Academy. 

"Ragnor Fell, my beloved son and daughters." Will introduced fondly -he sent Ainsley a wink when referring to her as his daughter to which she smiled- before letting his eyes settle on the three other boys, with almost the same amount of affection, "Also a disgraceful pack of home invaders. I think you all know Ragnor Fell, the former High Warlock of London?"

"He taught us in the Academy," Christopher reminded.

Ragnor Fell's eyes darkened at the sight of the Lightwood boy. His voice was slow and almost reproachful. "By the name of Lilith. Hide the breakables. Hide the whole house. Christopher Lightwood is here."

"Oh come on now, professor," Ainsley smiled from Lucie's side. "We all know you secretly adore, Christopher:"

Ragnor narrowed his eyes at Ainsley. "The fact that you were my favorite student doesn't mean you can go around spreading those lies about me Miss Ashwood."

"Your secret's safe with me, sir," the half-Korean hushed with a conspiratorial smile. 

"And he is often here," James added. "The house remains mostly intact."

Will fondly watched at his children interacted with the warlock. "Mr. Fell is here on a social call. Isn't that nice?" He explained.

Will had done his level best to try and make the London -and foreign- Downworld knew that they were welcome. But it was such a rare thing for them to accept it. Ainsley was glad that Ragnor being here had made her uncle smile even if it wasn't for the reasons he thought.

"Mr. Fell expressed a keen interest in Welsh music, so I sang a few songs," that explained the sudden use of his voice for something other then quoting literature or telling stories of the past. "Also, we had a few glasses of port. We've been enjoying ourselves."

"I have been here for hours. There have been many songs." The warlock looked as anguished as he sounded.

"I know you enjoyed them," Will spoke.

"I do feel as if I have been to Wales and back," something in the man's voice told Ainsley that he didn't particularly like thinking about Wales. His eyes seemed to scan all of the youngsters in front of him until they rested on Matthew and the brightened. "The Consul's son. I remember you. Your mother is a kind woman—has she quite gotten over her illness?"

"That was some years ago," Matthew attempted a smile but it faltered before it even graced his face. 

It had been two years since Charlotte Fairchild had gotten ill and lost her baby. The little sister Matthew didn't get to know about until it was too late. Something shifted in him after that. Ainsley remembered after it happened. Her, Lucie and James had been waiting in the library. When Matthew entered, Lucie immediately raced up to him to give the boy a hug but the blonde simply recoiled. There was something in his eyes that made Ainsley realize that he felt as though he didn't deserve Lucie's affection. He had asked James and her to leave after the dark-haired boy had embraced his parabatai but the girl wouldn't budge. She finally left after hugging the boy, his shoulders and body tenses the whole time as though he didn't want her to touch him.

From that day forward, it was yet another mystery that Ainsley Ashwood was determined to solve. 

The boy moved to the mantel that sat above the fire. That was where the sherry sat up high and majestically. All eyes were on him but much to Ainsley's misfortune, no one was stopping him. Not even Will, who Ainsley was well aware had noticed Matthew's drinking.

So that lead the Ashwood girl to cross the room. She paced a hand on Matthew's shaky one just before he grabbed the bottle. His green eyes shifted to hers. Her eyes were begging him not to drink. They held eye contact for probably fifteen seconds but for the two teenagers it felt like forever.

The boy finally nodded and let his hands drop. Ainsley managed a shaky smile. She ducked so that she was under his arm and in the safety of his arms. Matthew looked down at her with a small smile of his own though it was also wobbly. His gaze soon downcast to the floor but his hand was squeezing Ainsley's shoulder as if to comfort both her and himself.

Everyone's head tilted to the the door when it opened. They saw Tessa stood there a candle lighting her face. The look on it worried Ainsley but she didn't get the chance to ask, Tessa spoke up. "Will, bach. Come with me for a moment; I have something to ask you."

Ainsley let her lips smile when Will immediately sprung to his feet. He always did that when Tessa called. 

Ainsley Ashwood wasn't one to believe in things like soulmates but if there was such a thing, Tessa Gray was Will Herondale's. The love the two of them shared was something straight out of the stories they loved so much. It was pure and extraordinary. If her future husband -not that she wanted one- didn't look at her the way Will looked at Tessa, she knew that she didn't want him. 

Will made his way to his wife and as soon as the door clicked shut behind him, Ragnor Fell had his frustrated gaze set on James. "I see this generation of Shadowhunters has no more sense than the last," he commented. "Why are you gallivanting around London town at this time of night when I need to speak with you?"

"What, and interrupt your social call?" Ainsley couldn't help but speak up.

James grinned. "Father said you were listening to Welsh songs for hours."

The aura of impatience lingered around the warlock. "Yes, more's the pity. My friend Hypatia let me know that some young Shadowhunters came to her salon tonight asking questions about unusual demons and hinting at a dire future for us all. She mentioned your names." His green finger was pointed at the two seventeen-year olds who had their limbs wrapped around each other. "She said she owed you lot some sort of debt and asked if I could help."

"Will you?" Thomas and Ainsley both straightened up. The amusement left them and was instantly replaced with worry and silent hope as their eyes met.

"My sister and Ainsley's brother are part of the wounded."

Ragnor blinked before recognition flashed through his eyes. "Thomas Lightwood? Lord, you're huge. What have the Nephilim been feeding you?"

"I grew a little," Thomas stated with so much impatience that Ainsley cut in.

"Can you help Marcus and Barbara?" Her voice was unhinged with thinly veiled desperation. 

Having regained his calmness, the tallest Lightwood boy further explained. "The Silent Brothers have put all those injured to sleep, but so far there is no cure." 

Ainsley felt Matthew's thumb gently tracing circles on her waist from where his arm had dropped to after her form had straightened and tensed up. Her arms were drawn tightly over her chest, her nails biting into her biceps from how tightly she gripped them. Her eyes roved to his face and find that his green orbs were fogged over, his thoughts elsewhere. 

He wasn't comforting her because he was paying attention to what was going on, he was comforting her because he felt her tense up next to him. It wouldn't have mattered if she needed comfort because her brother might die or because her someone had frustrated her. Matthew would have held her and done his best to be there even if his mind was plagued with his own demons. 

Ainsley felt her heart skip a beat the realisation.

But her attention was quickly averted from the blonde when she heard Ragnor Fell speak again. "The scarcity of demons in London over the past years has not escaped my notice," his voice bringing her distracted brain back to the task and conversation at hand. "I have also heard the rumors that a powerful warlock is behind this absence."

"Do you believe it?" Lucie questioned.

"No. If we warlocks could easily keep demons out of our cities, we would do it. But it would not require a powerful warlock so much as a corrupt one to play with this kind of magic."

"What do you mean? Surely keeping demons away is a good thing, not a bad one."

Ainsley rolled her eyes at his words. "James," when he turned to her the girl raised her eyebrows, "you were in the park yesterday. You saw that our reflexes and blows were slower then they ought to be. That's what happens when demons stay away. You're not prepared for when they return."

Ragnor nodded his head, his eyes impressed with his former student's words. "Miss Ashwood is correct. No wonder she's my favorite. One would think that," he began explaining. "And yet what we are seeing here is that someone has cleared the minor demons out of London in order to make a path for those even more dangerous." 

At the pause in his voice, Ainsley practically jumped anxiously. "You're hesitating. Why are you hesitating?" She needed Ragnor to tell then everything if she wanted a chance at helping her brother and Thomas' sister.

The man sighed. "Among warlocks, my name is often invoked when dimensional magic is spoken of—the most difficult and unstable kind of magic, the kind that involves other worlds than ours. I have made myself a student of it, and none knows more than I. Demons cannot appear in daylight. It is a rule of nature. And yet. Are there ways to bring demons into this world that would make them impervious to it?"

There was a silence where all the Shadowhunters -save Matthew who was still lost in his mind like he had been since Ragnor mentioned his mother and her illness- looked at each other, not sure how to respond. Finally gaining the courage, Lucie carefully chanced a "Yes?"

"Don't expect me to tell you what they are," Ragnor all but snapped. "Only that they are forbidden by the Spiral Labyrinth, for they involve complex dimensional magic that presents a danger to the fabric of the world itself. I do not have solid information, only rumors and guesses. I would not betray one of my own kind to a member of the Clave unless I knew for certain that they were guilty of a crime, for the Clave would arrest them first and examine the evidence later." He took a short break, a hand going through his snow white hair. When the warlock started speaking again there was a diplomatic tone to his voice. "But you... you are children. Not yet in the Clave. If you were to look into this..."

"We won't tell Father anything you don't want us to," James quickly promised. "We won't tell anyone. We swear it on Raziel's name."

"Except Cordelia," Lucie spoke up with haste. "She is to be my parabatai. I cannot hide things from her."

"But you don't have to worry about us mentioning it to an adult," Ainsley spoke quickly. "It's not like they have the time to check on us with what's going on, anyways."

A hum of agreement was followed by nods. Their voices all promised, uttering the Angel's name. Shadowhunters didn't swear on anything because it was a very big deal. So if they stood there, swearing the most solemn oath they could as Nephilim, they were absolutely desperate.

Satisfied that they wouldn't say anything, Ragnor faced the Herondale boy. "Few warlocks could perform this magic, and even fewer would be willing. In fact, I can think of only one so corrupt. Emmanuel Gast. Word among the warlocks is, if the price is high enough, there is no work too low for him. I do not know if the rumor is true, but I do know his address."

The green-skinned man moved to the dark wood desk. He grabbed a pen that laid there and quickly jolted down some words on page. Ainsley tried to make out the words but the extra joint on the warlock's fingers hid the message from all eyes, offending or otherwise. When he was done, James nodded. "Thank you."

"I don't suppose I need to ask you not to tell Gast who sent you," Ainsley sent him a which asked if he thought they were idiots. At the way the man avoided her eyes, the answer was pretty evident. "If I find out you did, I shall turn you all into a matched set of teacups." He threatened before a sigh escaped him. "As for me, I am going to Capri. My nerves are in a state. If London is to be devoured by demons, I do not wish to be present for the event. Good luck to you all."

It was sometimes hard to believe that this man used to be the High Warlock, a role which involved protecting the city in their charge. The half-Korean kept her thoughts to herself as he walked to the door. There he paused a second. 

"I do not entirely know how to treat you Herondales," he revealed. "A warlock has never had a child before. I cannot help but wonder: What will you become?"

The room was silent safe for the fire licking the metal grate. Ragnor's eyes stared at James before falling to Lucie. Oddly enough, they shifted to Ainsley for a second as well. He quickly turned away and lifted his shoulders.

"So be it."

He left the echo of his steps in his wake as he left. As soon as they had subsided, Lucie quickly made for the desk. Her fingers wrapped around the piece of paper and held it up triumphantly with that wide smile of hers. Ainsley couldn't help but smile back, her and Thomas exchanging another look. They had hope. Maybe not much but the tiny sliver was enough for the moment. They might be able to help Marcus and Barbara.

But all it took was for Will and Tessa Herondale to renter the parlour to wipe it off the two parabatai's faces. 

They wore a look of deep sadness and shadow. One that took Ainsley back to Seoul in 1893. In that moment the dread washed over her and the cold threatened to freeze her heart. So many questions swarmed in her head. 

What had happened? Had they come to announce that her brother had died? That he had ascended into the heavens with her parents? That she was the only Ashwood left? 

Ainsley suddenly felt herself shrinking into herself, feeling as she had when she was seven. She had hated the wait before getting to know what they were about to announce.

But Will and Tessa's eyes didn't seek her out. No, instead they turned to look at Thomas Lightwood. And that's when it hit her. 

The girl quickly left Matthew's side, tears budding out of her eyes. She caught Thomas right before the boy hit the ground. She slowed his descent to the ground as the boy desperately gripped to her, her green dress fanning out around her.

"Thomas, we are so sorry. Your parents are on their way." Tessa's voice was quiet and filled with sorrow. 

And the next three words turned the room to ice. They broke the fantasy that maybe this was just a trick of their minds. Because though her brother was still breathing, the crushing weight on Ainsley's chest and the clawing in her heart didn't lighten.

The next three words changed the lives of the six teenagers in the room. They were the first real sign of the hardships they would have to suffer. 

And even years after, those three words would haunt their nightmares and wake them up in the middle of the night. Their brains would flash back to this moment in their lives and the utter helplessness they had felt and how much their hearts ached.

At those three words, Matthew Fairchild, Ainsley Ashwood, the Herondale siblings and Thomas and Christopher Lightwood all changed.

And those three words were: "Barbara has died."

.

A/N  
Guys....... this chapter is by far the longest I have written. 9891 words! My mind is blown 🤯 truly. I mean I had expected it to be long but not this long.  
Anyways, I had a lot of fun writing it!   
Just writing about Ainsley punching Tatiana was sooooo satisfying 😌 I was cheering her on while writing it.   
And Kit and Ainsley!! My heart! I know that Christopher isn't really shown like that but I had a need to make him and Ainsley close like this and have him be tactile with her and just hold her and hug her like that 🙃  
And what do you guys think of the 'Olive Branch' Ainsley offered Alastair? How do you think it will play out?  
And by the way, I apologise for my inability to write fight scenes. I'm trying to get better but I'm just not there yet 😬 I hope it wasn't too bad.   
Also! Thank you guys so much! Believer has now reached 1K! I am so grateful that you all liked it. It melts my heart that people enjoy my writing and gives me the motivation to continue.  
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it and I'll see you soon for the next one 😉

.


	12. XI.

.

TALISMANS AND SPELLS

Knowledge is proud that he has learn'd so much;  
Wisdom is humble that he knows no more.  
Books are not seldom talismans and spells.

—William Cowper, "The Task, Book VI: Winter Walk at Noon"

.

AINSLEY'S CHIN WAS SLIDING OFF her palm, when she woke up with a start. She quickly moved from the chair in which she had placed herself and sat at Thomas' bedside trying to wake him.

The boy's voice was raised to a tormented cry as he thrashed in the bed. 

"Thomas!" Ainsley cried, trying to still him. It was rather pointless since she was much smaller then he but she didn't stop trying. "Tom! Tom, wake up!"

After a couple more tries, Thomas' hazel eyes opened. He quickly sat up, his hair plastered to his forehead as he took in his surroundings. "You're okay," Ainsley soft voice soothed. He sighed and the look in his eyes told the girl that all the memories of the past couple hours flooding back. 

His sister's death, his decision to stay at the Institute instead of going to Idris with his parents. He chose to stay with his parabatai, the only one who could understand his pain. For out of everyone in their little group, Ainsley Ashwood was the only one who had truly experienced the loss of a loved one. She was the only one with a sibling who also got poisoned by the demons that could venture out in the day. 

Thomas rubbed his face with both hands, scrubbing away his tears with such force that his cheeks turned red. Ainsley didn't say anything, she just sat next to him with her hand comfortably resting on his knee. 

When he removed his hands from his face, Thomas' hazel eyes took her in. The half-Korean girl let him. She wasn't self-conscious around Thomas and given recent events, she was given a pass for not looking her best. Especially at four in the morning. 

Her hair tumbled to a couple inches under her shoulders in waves of chocolate, resting on the shoulders of the teal gown she still hadn't changed out of. Her eyes had bags that were almost as black as them from three conservative nights of little to no sleep. 

"I'm sorry for waking you," the Lightwood boy's voice was hoarse and scratchy.

"I wasn't sleeping," the brunette lied with a microscopic smile of reassurance. She reached a hand up to rest it on Thomas' cheek. It was calloused but he didn't mind as her thumb caressed away a tear from his eyes. 

Thomas leaned into her touch. They sat like that for a while until the boy stated, "You should go and sleep. In your room," he added when he saw her about to argue. "You have a perfectly good bed right down the hall."

"I'm not leaving you alone right now, Thomas." Ainsley stated, her eyes set. "'Entreat me not to leave thee'. Even if you kick and scream and beg, I'm not going anywhere."

The Lightwood sighed. But there was gratitude in his eyes. Along with a sadness that broke Ainsley's heart. She quickly pulled herself into Thomas' lap and held him. His strong arms circled her waist and held her close. The tears started falling against the skin of her neck and Thomas' broad shoulders started shaking with sorrow as he sobbed.

Ainsley held him, her hand fingering through his brown hair as she muttered small words of reassurance. "I've got you, sweet boy."

She let a couple tears of her own escape her eyes, the salt water prickling her lips. 

Barbara Lightwood was gone. Her life had been blown out the way a candle's flame was. So suddenly and unexpectedly. 

She would never get to marry Oliver the way she'd wanted to since the moment they started courting. She would never try to convince Ainsley to show her her sketches again. She would never give her advice only an older sister could. She would never randomly waltz into the Institute and declare that she was kidnapping Marcus for the day. She would never smile that kind smile that made anyone's day better.

Because Barbara Lightwood was gone. 

Death had stolen her away as if she were just another casualty of war when she was so much more then that. She was a daughter, a sister, a friend and most of all a good person. But the Reaper didn't see that. As it placed its dark, indifferent gaze on her, Barbara Lightwood was just another victim he was going to take from the world, not caring of the shattered pieces left behind.

"Annie?" The girl hummed, stroking locks of Thomas' hair. His voice was raw and hoarse. "Does it ever stop hurting?"

Ainsley knew what he was asking. She closed her eyes, thoughts of Scott and Ji-a Ashwood caressing the edges if her mind. Scott bouncing her on his good knee or Ji-a threading her hands through her brunette locks. She had some vague and detached memories left along with the hole in the middle of her chest. 

After what seemed like a lifetime, the girl shakily sighed. "No," she admitted. "There's always this...void. But it does get easier to deal with."

"It hurts, Annie," Thomas squeezed her tighter. "It hurts so much."

"I know, my love. I know."

They kept holding each other, afraid that they might lose their parabatai if they dared let go. But eventually, the grips loosened and their frames settled onto the bed, tangled up in each other's loving arms.

And for the first time that night, Thomas Lightwood wasn't plagued by nightmares. Because despite his lose, he could always find comfort in the fact that like always, Ainsley Ashwood was right by his side.

.

THE FIRST RAYS OF SUN were peeking through the window as Ainsley woke up. 

She shifted a little, feeling Thomas' arms holding her like a lifeline and remembering the events that had transpired an hour ago. After some careful manoeuvring, she managed to get out of the boy's hold. Her black eyes gazed down at him for a couple seconds. There was a peacefulness to Thomas as he slept. It looked as though he couldn't be affected by anything.

With a sad smile, Ainsley leaned down and pressed her kiss to his forehead. 

She then left, leaving him sleep, carefully pulling the door closed behind her. The brunette let out a small exhale through her nose, her mind filled with worry about her parabatai.

"Annie?" The girl turned to see Will at the end of the hallway, dressed in rumpled clothes. He was rubbing the back of his neck in a way that let Ainsley suspect that he'd fallen asleep at his desk. With everything that was going on, the Head of the Institute was working overtime.

As he approached, the girl attempted a smile. "Good morning, Uncle Will."

His blue eyes noticed the dress that still adorned her frame. "Did you sleep in Thomas' room?" His voice wasn't reproachful or angry. He more then anyone understood the meaning of parabatai. The half-Korean had heard of the amount of times Will Herondale had fallen asleep at his parabatai or best friend's bedside. His voice was rather inquiring and curious, instead.

"I didn't want to leave him alone. And then, since what happened with Barbara, I can't get Marcus ou-" the Ashwood girl broke herself of as tears began budding at her eyes, her hand flat against her stomach. "By the Angel, Marcus. He'll be devastated when he hears about Barbara."

Will quickly gathered the girl in his arms, holding her close. He didn't say anything. Just letting her hold onto him tightly. They stood in the hall, the Herondale holding his foster daughter for a good five minutes. Ainsley let herself melt in his fatherly embrace, her head on his heart and her arms around his waist. 

Stroking her open hair, Will placed a kiss on her crown. "It'll all settle down," he said. "We'll figure things out."

With a sigh she pulled her head back to look at him. "I hope so."

Will cupped her cheek, his face baring a serious look on his face. "I know that you and the others are doing something. I'm not angry," he hastily assured when he saw the girl about to defend herself or lie -or most probably lie to defend herself, "your father and I were the same at your age. But please, promise me you'll be careful."

"You know I don't make promise I'm not sure I'll be able to keep," Ainsley looked at him softly. 

"That's the Ji-a in you speaking," Will smiled despite himself. He leaned his forehead against his foster daughter's. 

Ainsley couldn't help but smile at that. She was often told that she was a lot like her mother. It was a fact she took a lot of pride in since her mother had been amazing. Ji-a Ashwood had been kind and loving but she was also fierce and protective. 

The man sighed, pulling away. "Okay don't promise. But try to be careful?"

"I'll try." Ainsley smiled weakly. She kissed his cheek and moved to go to her room. Just as she reached the end of the hall, the brunette paused. She turned back to her uncle. "I can't promise that I'll be careful. But I do promise to try and do my best to get James and Lucie home to you."

And she turned the corner to head to her room, not letting the man speak another word.

.

AINSLEY RUBBED HER EYES, BLINKING them as she tried to keep them open. She didn't realise just how tired she actually was until she found herself stood in front of Emmanuel Gast's flat.

After her short conversation with Will, the brunette had retreated to her room. She had cleaned up and changed into her gear.

After that she checked on Thomas, sketching the boy out as he slept. It wasn't until the clock struck around nine that the Lightwood boy woke up. He washed up and changed. Neither of them had breakfast, the mood to dark and sorrowful for either of them to manage swallowing anything but some tea. 

Thomas then told his parabatai that he was heading to Christopher's. Ainsley accompanied him to the door from where she was going to go to the training room. Maybe punching a bag and imagining it was the culprit for all this pain would help ease her mind and take out her frustration. 

But that plan quickly changed when Ainsley ran into Lucie Herondale.

Lucie explained to her foster sister that Matthew, James and her were going to head to the address Ragnor had written down. The girl instantly declared she was coming with them. She was already dressed in gear as inky black as her eyes, her brown hair tied up in a ponytail with a white ribbon, the curls licking the nape of her neck. 

Matthew was waiting for the two girls in the courtyard in front of the Institute. He informed them that James had gone to get Cordelia.

They then made their way to Cheapside. 

Ainsley's obsidians orbs took her surroundings and it was all brown. The sombre tan buildings stood tall on either side of the street. They were all fitted with small, lead-framed windows and topped with triangular roofs. Some of them were draped by brown canopies, though it was less due to the fabric and more to due to the dust that were pasted over them. Bustling herds of people were in the smog, buying fish all the way up to St. Mary-le-Bow, the whee bell tower. News boys ran about, calling out and waving the evening edition of the paper they were looking to sell. Among them were certain Irregulars, young sighted Mundanes the Devil Tavern had employed for errands around the city. Ainsley had even sent a small wave at her personal favourite, a grubby faced boy named Neddy. 

When they had past Friday Street, Matthew had pointed at an old building. "There used to be a pub up that street called the Mermaid Tavern, where Shakespeare used to drink."

Ainsley raised an eyebrow. "Do I even want to know why you know that?"

"Probably not," Matthew sent her one of those dazzling smiled of his. 

Lucie wrinkled her nose. "I don't think much of Shakespeare's taste."

The two older teenagers smiled tiredly at her. They finally paused in front of a handkerchief factory. One look down at the piece of paper in Matthew's hands told them that they had reached.

"Well, looks like we're here."

Ainsley nodded, her hands crossed over her chest. "You two go and try to convince the landlord or lady to tell us what they know."

Lucie furrowed her eyebrows. "What about you?"

"I'll wait here in case Jamie and Cordelia arrive before you get back."

That was why she found herself alone on the street. The exhaustion was finally kicking in, at the worst moment possible. She was running on only an hour of sleep.

Thoughts of Marcus were perpetually flashing in the back of her mind. Images of him happy and well were overshadowed by the impending feeling that he might end up like Barbara. That he would fade away into the night and leave her alone. 

To add to her already sombre mood, her thoughts also went to all the beds that were now occupied by more Shadowhunters. They had been attacked during a meeting the previous evening and landed up in a cot at the Institute. It was mere moments after Barbara's demise.

The girl squeezed her eyes shut, pressing the back of her hands against them. The cool touch of her skin soothed the blur when she opened them again, her hands at her side. 

Her gaze went to her left wrist, the fingers of her right hand fiddling with the white mourning band on it. Lucie and Matthew had one too, the latter also adding the personal touch of a white flower in his buttonhole.   
The news of Barbara's death had left a gapping hole in all their already fissured chests. 

The blonde boy had sensed the tense and dark mood earlier. He had been making jokes and telling small anecdotes in attempts to cheer up the two girls, even if it was just a little. 

It was nice but the loss was still weighing on their shoulders.

Ainsley had been so focused on her thoughts about Marcus, Barbara and the inevitability of Death, that she hadn't heard the footsteps walking her way. 

Her distracted state let Matthew and Lucie inspect her properly without all the extra layers of her dresses. Green and blue eyes took in her frame, sagging forward as though the weight of world sat on her slim shoulders. Her gear was extremely prominent against her skin which was a little too pale. It was almost like looking at charcoal on a piece of paper. Her cheeks were slightly pinched and her eyes shadowed, practically fighting to stay open. 

The girl in front of them looked like a mere shadow of the confident and sarcastic Ainsley Ashwood they knew. 

"Well," Matthew's loud voice broke her out of her reverie, her attention snapping to the approaching pair. "He isn't home."

"So what do we do?"

"Wait for James and Cordelia," Lucie suggested with a small shrug. "I'm going to go around the side and try to see if there's another entrance."

"Do you want us to come with you?"

The younger brunette smiled. "I'll be fine, Annie."

And she was gone. Ainsley shook her head at the girl but had a small smile tugging at her lips.

The two remaining teenagers turned their gaze on each other. For a second, they were frozen there. Neither of them noticed the throngs of people walking around their glamoured states. It seemed like forever before Matthew tucked a loose strand of hair gently behind Ainsley's ear. Her face tinged ever so slightly.

"You alright?"

"I'm always alright," Ainsley expressed.

But Matthew saw straight through the lie. He raised his eyebrows to which the half-Korean rolled her eyes. "I'm fine," she lied again. She didn't want to worry him and be sent home. The last thing she could do was sit around and hope for things to resolve themselves. Ainsley had to do something. She had to join the action. "Just didn't sleep much last night."

The Fairchild boy frowned. "Nightmares?"

"Yeah, Thomas had quite a few. He's absolutely devastated," the girl explained. "Though it is natural. His oldest sister just died."

Matthew nodded before worriedly questioning, "Did he get any sleep at all?"

"Eventually. At around four."

"Four?" Matthew's face looked incredulous. "No wonder you look horrible."

"Well, damn Matthew. You sure know how to make one feel special. Every girl in the world wants to hear that they look horrible." The girl stated sarcastically.

The Consul's second son rolled those green eyes of his with an unbelieving smile. "I just meant you look tired. And in your case, it's true since you can't take compliments."

"That doesn't mean I want to be called hideous!"

"Whoever would say you're hideous is an idiot," Matthew stated firmly. Red blossomed over her face, her hands coming to hide it as Matthew smirked triumphantly at how his indirect compliment was affecting her. 

"I walked right into that one," Ainsley admitted as the boy nodded.

Matthew smiled lovingly at her. "That you did, my dear. By the way, there is something rather odd I wanted to talk to you about." He got a little closer, his deep voice dropped a little lower as though he were speaking a secret. Which was kind of unnecessary since they were already alone but it felt intimate. "Charles-"

"Charles is always odd, Math," Ainsley raised an eyebrow.

The boy paused a second and considered. When he deemed her correct he hummed. "Well, that is true. But Charles and Grace—"

He was cut of by Lucie Herondale's voice. "James! Cordelia!" 

The pair turned to her. She was behind them, paused midway between them and the mouth of the alley she'd just walked out of. Her frame was balanced on her toes as she waved at James and Cordelia. They didn't seem to notice her, black and red heads ducked together and speaking lowly.

Ainsley and Matthew shared a glance. It was rare for James to be so deep in conversation with someone other then the members of their little group of five. So much so that he didn't notice his name being called.

"Interesting," Matthew mused as Lucie rejoined his and Ainsley's side huffing. Her arms were crossed over her chest as her foster threw her own arms around the younger girl and rested her chin on one of her shoulders. 

When Matthew raised his arm and motioned with his hand, James seemed to notice them. 

He and the girl at his side swiftly ducked and swerved around the people marching around them. When the finally reached, Ainsley didn't even try to hide her astonished expression at Cordelia's appearance. 

She looked so much different in gear. The long tunic and trousers were made of the same black material as everyone else's but for some reason, Cordelia appeared to be the best looking out of them. Maybe it was because the colour actually suited her, unlike the ghastly pastels Sona forced her into. On the others, the gear looked good but it didn't bring anything out except for Ainsley's eyes which were the exact same shade. 

But Cordelia Carstairs, with her rich red locks pulled back into a braid and a leather satchel slung over her shoulder, she looked so much younger and prettier. She looked like the hero she longes to be and not the stuffy girl society demanded her to imitate. 

The girl seemed to notice Ainsley's stare and blushed a little. The older girl however managed a warm smile. One the half-Persian happily returned.

"It's a boardinghouse," Matthew called over as soon as the pair were close enough to hear him. "Lucie and I've already been inside. The landlady said our friend Emmanuel Gast was 'away from home for an indefinite period.'"

"Matthew was unable to charm her," added Lucie with a small smirk. 

"I'm sorry, what?" Ainsley couldn't repress the smile that stretched her lips at that. Her eyes fell on Matthew who nonchalantly looked at other way while rubbing the back of his neck. "Good Lord, was this lady made of concrete? Or are you just loosing your touch?"

"I assure you, my 'touch' is perfectly fine, Leo," the boy playfully glared.

Lucie also smiled before informing. "We did manage to find out the flat's the one on the third floor, though."

It was James' time to smile now. He always had had a peculiar love for being stood up high on the London rooftops. "Then we go up the side of the building."

"I was afraid of this," Matthew all but groaned. The small group all threaded on James' heels as he marched into the alley Lucie had previously disappeared to check.

"Scared of a wall?" Ainsley taunted.

The blonde rolled his green eyes before grumbling, "My boots are new."

"Stiffen your sinews, Matthew," announced James. "And cry God for Harry, England, and Saint George!"

"Shakespeare, Henry V."

James smiled at Cordelia and praised, "Well spotted."

He then proceeded to take his grappling hook out from somewhere. How did her boys always seem to pull things out from nowhere? Ainsley honestly didn't understand. 

He then grabbed some rope that had also magically appeared from somewhere -the brunette really had to start paying more attention to what went on around her. Her foster brother quickly threaded it through the grappling hook as Mundane women did with a needle and thread. Though unlike them, James shot the hook up to the third floor window with his aim that was impeccable as always. The hook sank into the metal threshold of the window, the rope tumbling down like Ainsley's hair when she pulled out her pins after a long day.

"Once more unto the breach," the Herondale boy declared and with that he began his ascent.

Cordelia went next and then Lucie. The half-Korean girl had raised an eyebrow at Matthew. Ever the gentleman, the blond motioned for her to got first. So she did, Matthew's curses still being heard. 

Her arms and legs had dragged Ainsley halfway up the rope by the time she saw Lucie's frame disappear into the flat. That was when she heard it. A deep and startled yell. Her gaze immediately snapped to the ground. Her voice was quiet as she called, "Matthew?" Her panic barely contained.

He was on his hands and knees, hands bloody and shaking. Ainsley closed her eyes in worry and sadness. He'd fallen of the rope.

Despite being practically sure the words to come out of his mouth would be a lie, Ainsley asked. "Are you alright?"

"I told you," the Fairchild boy grabbed the rope again, his eyes looking anywhere but at the girl gazing upon him with such worry as he said. "New boots."

But it wasn't the boots.

Matthew Fairchild was drunk. As he usually was. And instead of admitting, like always, he lied and pretended instead. He broke the hearts of those he loved. He didn't intentionally hurt them of course. The boy naively believed -or rather hoped- they were all falling for his lies.

But they didn't.

Ainsley saw right through it. And it broke her heart that he wouldn't share the ache in his heart with her. That he hid and coped with the bottle rather then by talking to those who loved him. She wished Matthew would come and talk to her. That he would share his pain and let down his walls. That he wouldn't lie as easily as if it were a second language.

But as she turned her gaze away and continued her climb but to the flat, Ainsley Ashwood knew she was a hypocrite. Because she herself had no intention of letting down her walls or to relinquish lies as a language that slipped her tongue as easily as English or Korean.

.

THE FIRST THING AINSLEY NOTICED when she crawled into the apartment through the broken window was the smell. Waste and grease mixed together in decomposition.

The walls were lined with a brown paper and torn magazine pictures. A rug with Turkish embroidery laid under the arched and dusty sofa's four feet. In the dim light, one could barely perceive the used and battered spines that sat on the shelves tall ceiling-to-floor bookshelf. 

"I think Ragnor was right," James state, his gaze firmly resting on the leather-bound volumes. "There's a real concentration on the study of dimensional magic here."

"Buried among the books, is it?" Ainsley raised an eyebrow.

Matthew had also noticed his parabatai's eyes on the books and quickly declared, "No stealing the books and bringing them back to the Devil Tavern. It would not be the first time your book kleptomania has gotten us in trouble." He turned his green eyes onto the girl. "That goes for both of you."

"It was one time!" The half-Korean defended herself.

"I don't care," the oldest boy stated. "The fact is that we got yelled at because you couldn't keep your hands of that Sherlock Holmes book."

Ainsley let her eyes sweep over the room again. The black orbs took in the dull decor. "I hardly think this Gast character even reads Sherlock. I mean when you already live in what looks like a crime scene, why read about them?"

At the look Matthew she bit her lip to keep from bursting into laughter. James placed his hands on her shoulders and smiled innocently to his parabatai over her head. "We promise not to touch the books."

"Cross our hearts," the half-Korean added.

The blonde playfully scowled at that but the two foster siblings were already wandering around the flat looking for clues. Since James, Cordelia and Matthew had decided to search the living room, Ainsley walked further into the apartment. She could vaguely here the other three talking about a drawing of a box and broken shards of wood but she wasn't really paying attention.

The fatigue was blurring their words in addition to the brunette being further inside the flat. Lucie was next to her however, the younger girl sending her foster sister a worried glance. Ainsley smiled reassuringly.

Her black eyes however focused on the half open door behind the girl. It was slightly pushed open, the edge of a bed visible. She nodded her head to it making Lucie turn and see.

Both girls shared a look before inching towards it. None if the others noticed them slip in. That was where they met something straight out of nightmares.

The room was empty except for two things. The first was a bed made of iron frames. It honestly looked more like a cot. But the reason for the two girls' horror, was the second thing.

The completely disembowelled corpse of Emmanuel Gast, the very man they were searching. 

Ainsley had a hand in front of her mouth and a horror struck look in her wide black eyes as they took in the scene. The man had been completely gutted, his bones shattered and his face deformed. He didn't even look human anymore as he lay in a pool of scarlet, his head detached from the rest of him. Whoever did this wanted to make sure the warlock was dead and not coming back. The only part of him that was still relatively intact were his hands. Their palms were raised up to the sky, the back of them licking the wooden floorboards. It looked as though he had died begging for mercy.

Mercy he didn't get.

Ainsley could barely breathe at how strong the scent of decay was. He must have been dead at least a week.

She gave a short, startled yelp when the door slammed shut behind her and Lucie. Her eyes were probably as big as the plates Bridget served Christmas turkey at what happened next. A black mist began rising from the broken ribs that resembled the teeth of a rabid dog.

The ghost of Emmanuel Gast appeared before the two brunette girls. But he was different from any ghost Ainsley had ever had the pleasure of encountering.

The Ashwood family was also gifted with the ability to see ghosts. It was all thanks to Ainsley's great-great grandmother, Victoria Herondale. She was William and Tobias Herondale's younger sister and when she got married to a man by the name of Maximilian Ashwood, her ability to see ghosts passed down to their children. 

The first ghost she ever saw was that of her grandmother back in Seoul. The half-Korean had been four when her eyes had first fallen upon Yeong-mi Kim. The old woman would always watch her and Marcus train and keep an eye on them when Ji-a and Scott couldn't.

And them of course she was good friends -could one even call a woman who would have been her parents' age if she hadn't died a friend?- with Jessamine Lovelace, the Institute ghost. She would often peer over Ainsley shoulder as she sketched and give her honest opinion.

But while Yeong-mi and Jessamine were both a milky white with clear outlines, Gast was dark. His form blurry and saw toothed at the sides. One could see his skull under the mess of brown hair and a menacing glow surrounded him, his blue eyes set on both girls with a glare. His voice sounded like as hiss when he spoke. "Why have you summoned me, fools?"

"We did not summon you," Lucie sounded disgusted. 

"We didn't even know you were even dead," Ainsley grimaced. "That is of course until we were met with your...um remains."

Gast merely sneered at them. "Why have you dragged me back to this place of agony? What do you want, Shadowhunters?"

The younger girl moved to grab the door knob, her hand trying to pull the door open. "It won't open," she gave her foster sister a slightly panicked look. The half-Korean reached around and tried to hell but the door only rattled. It seemed to have been stuck with Christopher's super adhesive slave because no matter how much the two girls tugged, the door stood straight, mocking them. 

They could hear the others, Matthew asking James and Cordelia if they had seen the two brunettes. 

The shared a glance and turned back towards the ghost. It seemed that looking at him made it even harder to breath in the nasty air. But despite that, he was the only real lead they had to go on. If they wanted even a sliver of a chance to make sure Piers, Ariadne and the Shadowhunters newly occupying beds in the Institute, Emmanuel Gast's dark, looming frame was all they had. He was all they had for the smallest chance to find out about the demons who had callously cut Barbara Lightwood. He was their only chance to save Marcus. 

So both girls straightened up and stood tall -which didn't actually look that intimidating since both girls were rather short. "Did you summon the demons? The ones that have been attacking Nephilim in broad daylight?" Ainsley demanded.

When he kept his lips sealed, Lucie lost her composure. "Answer her!" She ordered.

The older brunette blinked when Gast's form solidified, his voice hollow as if he had been spelled. "I am the one who raised it. I, Emmanuel Gast, the most scorned of warlocks. Years ago the Spiral Labyrinth turned against me. They cast me out of warlock society. My golden reward was taken from me. I have been forced to take the lowliest of hires to feed and clothe myself. Yet all this time I studied. I learned. I was wiser than they thought." His eyes were angrily narrowed on the girls.

"Wise?" Ainsley couldn't stop herself from commenting. If the man had been 'wise' as he claimed to be, she highly doubted he would be dead right now.

Gast's gaze was like poison as black blood dripped of him and onto the dirty floorboards. "I see the way you look at me. You scorn me for raising such a demon—a death-dealer, the poisoner of life."

"Of course I scorn you!" Ainsley yelled. "My brother is dying because of you! What was so messed up in your life that you had to condemn my brother?" 

Her dear sweet Marcus. The best big brother a girl could ask for.

"The gold. I needed it. And the demon will kill only Shadowhunters."

"Someone paid you to do this," Lucie realised, her eyes going up to find Ainsley's already on her. This was it. One step closer. The Herondale girl quickly turned back to the ghost and demanded. "Who? Who did it?"

"What are you? You are a Shadowhunter, but not a Shadowhunter. You drag me back from the brink?" Gast clawed his fingers, his voice cruel and cold. "What is this monstrous power...?"

"Monstrous?" Ainsley snapped outraged, the usual grip on her anger slipping. "Don't you dare call my sister 'monstrous' after what you've done!"

She didn't know how Lucie was doing what she was doing. Maybe these were the power she got from Tessa, the same way James got the Shadow World. But whatever the case, she was grateful for them.

The younger brunette agreed with her foster sister. "What's monstrous is that you summoned these creatures into this world, knowing the damage they would do—"

"You know nothing of me," the deceased warlock snapped. "I went to the bridge to raise the demon. I brought it into this world and then I captured it, kept it where it would be safe, a gift for the one who gave me gold. But when I returned here, I was betrayed. I could not stop it. My blood and my life ran out over the floor as my killer tore the demon from its hiding place."

"Who did this? Who hired you?" Lucie sounded as impatient as Ainsley felt.

Gast began trembling and resisting, his sides blurring. "I will not tell—"

"You will!" Ainsley had never yet seen Lucie Herondale in this light. The young girl was determined and angry. Her hand was thrust out towards the ghost who threw his head back. That was when her black eyes set on the multiple rows of shark teeth in his mouth -his warlock mark. 

There was a hitting sound against the door. Ainsley managed to move Lucie out of danger, shielding her with her own body just as the door finally collapsed in a puff of white dust. James came in, followed by Cordelia and Matthew. The door lay crumpled on the ground but no one payed it any mind. Everyone was either focused on Emmauel Gast, ghost and corpse.

"The one who hired me came to me masked, face wrapped around in cloth and wearing layers of cloaks." The reluctance in Gast voice was clearly evident but he didn't seem keen to cross Lucie again. "I know not if they were man or woman, old or young."

"What more do you know? Who is controlling the demons now?"

The ghost twitched under James' serious gold eyes. His mouth turned up into a growl as he seethed. "Someone more powerful than you puny Nephilim. Someone who tore down my wards, ripped my body apart—" His voice hit an impossibly high note at which Ainsley couldn't help but grimace. "I shall not think on it! I shall not relive my death! Truly you are monsters, despite your angel blood."

"Go!" Lucie ordered. "Leave us!"

Gast couldn't seem to fade away fast enough. He was gone the second the group blinked. Cordelia had gone to throw the filthy blanket on top of the mangled body, but not fast enough.

As Ainsley looked at it again, she didn't see Emmanuel Gast, the corrupt warlock who was ready to do anything for a little coin. No, instead she saw her brother. Marcus had taken Gast's place. His head practically severed off, his chest ripped open, his hand raised up in mercy.

She closed her eyes backing away. "No," she mumbled. "No, no, no, no, no."

Ainsley rushed out of the room, cursing herself for her lack of sleep. She quickly rushed out of the apartment, her feet quickly taking her down the stairs and out onto the London streets. It was bad enough having to see that body but having a hallucination that it was her brother made it so much worse. 

The fog and steam filled her lungs as she paced, her hands firmly set on her temple. 

"Hey, hey, hey," she felt arms gently grab her forearms and pull her to a stop. 

She could smell the pine and brandy mixed with cologne. Matthew's hand gently cupped her cheek, his green eyes worriedly gazing down at her. "Hey, you're okay," his thumb gently stroked her skin. It was so delicate and caring. She just melted into him, her stance relaxing and her thoughts coming back to her.

"I'm sorry," the half-Korean gently placed the back of her hands on her eyes again as Matthew's hand slid up to her bicep.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," the boy gently assured. "What happened in there?"

"Hallucination. I knew my lack of sleep would come and bit me in the arse."

Matthew brought her into a hug, his chin resting on the top of her head. Ainsley let her arms wrap around his waist, inhaling his familiar scent. The scent that always brought her comfort no matter how mad she was at him. "We'll just make sure you sleep when we get back to the Institute."

The girl quickly looked up and shook her head. "Math, no. Please no. I can't sleep. I have to do something. I hav-"

"You can't help if you drop from exhaustion," the boy gently traced her cheekbone as his eyes were firm. 

Ainsley hated that he had a point. So she soundlessly nodded before burying her head into Matthew's chest again. She engulfed herself in the intoxicating scent and warm feel that spread through her at his touch. She felt safe there, especially as Matthew kept holding her.

They stood there for a while until three voices called, "Ainsley!" 

Cordelia, Lucie and James were racing up to them. Ainsley let go of Matthew and quickly captured Lucie in a hug as the younger girl practically catapulted herself into her foster sister's arms. They held onto each other tightly. The Herondale boy joined them, his arm thrown around both his sisters. Cordelia offered them a kind smile and squeezed Lucie's hand.

"Gast did not die easily," James commented. "Good work, my sisters. I know that can't have been pleasant."

The two girls sent him weak smiles, the older of the pair leaning into him while the younger inquired, "Did you find anything in the flat after we went into the bedroom?"

"We took a few things—sketches, and Cordelia has the wood shards in her satchel." The dark haired boy bobbed his head up and down.

"That reminds me," Matthew grabbed Cordelia's leather satchel from her.

Ainsley's eyes lit up a little as she figured what he was doing and quickly let go of James. "I'm coming with you!" She announced, falling into step with Matthew.

The blonde smiled. They both headed towards a young boy, his face stained with dust. His face beamed when he caught sight of the pair. "Mr. Fairchild! Miss Ashwood!"

The boy ran up to them, his arms instantly circling Ainsley who smiled back with a small eye roll. "For the last time, Neddy. It's Ainsley and Matthew."

Neddy pulled away with a bashful look. The blonde boy also smiled at him, explaining that he need him to take the satchel to Thomas and Christopher. After a couple of directions and paying the boy, the Consul's second son handed over the satchel. With one last happy smile at the pair, Neddy the Irregular took off.

The wind blew around them, messing Matthew's gold locks. The half-Korean girl couldn't resist the urge to push it out of his eyes so she did. She got on the tips of her feet, her fingers gently setting the locks back on his forehead.

Satisfied, she looked over at Matthew's face. His eyes had been studying her. They always did. She blushed a little but the blonde just held out his hand. Ainsley quickly took it, letting him lead her back towards their three companions whose attention was on their joined hands. 

Matthew pretended not to notice and informed, "I told Neddy to take the bag to Christopher. It may be that identifying what those shards are will help." 

From Cordelia's confused look, Ainsley stepped in, gently explaining, "I doubt Christopher has left Tom's side since he went to his house this morning—perhaps this will provide a distraction for them both." She honestly hoped that this helped Thomas.

"Perhaps," Lucie mused, "If we can return to the Institute, I would like to write down what Gast said, that I might remember each detail."

"Unfortunately, I don't think that this encounter ever plans on leaving my brain," Ainsley grimaced as the all started moving towards the carriage. 

Lucie sent her an understanding smile. She was the only one who could more or less understand what she was feeling.

But despite the horror that was held in that bedroom, they were a little closer to their goal. Maybe it was only by a centimetre, maybe it was by a whole mile. But whatever the case, a small part of her brain was beginning to hope that maybe, just maybe, her brother might be saved before it was too late.

.

A/N  
I seriously need to stop underestimating the size of these chapters and how long it takes to right them 😬   
But I hope you all enjoyed it! I tried to put a lot of Mathley (I've decided that this is Ainsley and Matthew's ship name) scenes and some cute platonic scenes too. And how do y'all feel about Ainsley unraveling? Do you think she will actually get the sleep she needs or will something come up?  
Anyways, you guys are awesome and I wish you a lovely day/night 💕

.


	13. XII.

.

THE END OF IT

She loves me all that she can,  
And her ways to my ways resign;  
But she was not made for any man,  
And she never will be all mine.

—Edna St. Vincent Millay, "Witch-Wife"

.

"GODDAMN IT," AINSLEY CURSED AS the Institute came into view.

Lucie and James leaned closer to their foster sister and peered out the window in confusion. Then they understood why she cursed so suddenly.

Because Will and Tessa Herondale were stood in the Institute courtyard, looking at the carriage as it rolled in. They were both dressed to go out, Will in a morning coat, the sapphire tiepin that his wife had gifted him for their twentieth anniversary fastened to his tie and Tessa in a lovely yet formal day dress.

As the five teenagers tumbled out of the carriage, Will slightly narrowed his blue eyes. "And where have you been?" He demanded. "You stole our carriage."

"Yeah, who do you think we learned that from?" Ainsley smirked a little, one of her eyebrow cocked up.

The two other Herondales smirked at her as well. Lucie swiftly added, "Remember when Papa stole Uncle Gabriel's carriage? It's a proud family tradition."

"And besides," James spoke up, the three of them ascending the steps with Matthew and Cordelia trailing behind, "it's only the second best carriage."

The three children of the Institute bat their eyelids and smiled their most innocent smiles. They knew that if they kept this united front their parents would be less likely to punish them. 

"I did not raise you to be horse thieves and scallywags," Will argued. "And I recall very clearly that I told you—"

"Thank you for letting them borrow the carriage to come and get me," Cordelia cut the man of. The look of innocence plastered onto her face could rival that of the Institute children. On top of being kind snd resourceful and amazing in every single way, Cordelia Carstairs was also a skilled liar. Ainsley was starting to like her more and more.   
Though they lucky didn't have to give a reason for their attire of stark black gear instead of the usual dresses and suits. With everything happening, there was more risk then when Will would go and patrol with Jem and Scott. Their children now had to not only worry about the demons who struck under the cover of night but also beware of those lurking the shadows in the sun's glare, just waiting to pounce on their next victim. "I had very much wanted to come to the Institute and see what I could do to help."

The Herondale man's scolding gaze fell from his children to the young woman, his eyes turning soft. "Of course. You are always welcome here, Cordelia."

"Wha- why do I get the feeling you love Cordelia more then you do us?" Ainsley furrowed her eyebrows with her arms crossed over her chest.

"I do not love her more," Will rolled his eyes at his foster daughter but there was obvious affection in his voice. The man then sighed, explaining, "We are, as you can see, going out—Charles has invoked the Consul's authority and called a meeting in Grosvenor Square to discuss last night's attack. Only for high-level Enclave members, apparently."

Ainsley rolled her eyes while Matthew made a face. "By the Angel, that sounds awful. I hope it's all right for me to stay here tonight."

"We already made up one of the spare rooms for you." Tessa assured him.

"As I have known Charles since he was born, I have a difficult time taking him seriously as an authority figure," Will then mused. "I suppose if he says anything I don't like, I can request that he be spanked."

Ainsley rolled her eyes again but this time more amused with a short chuckle while Matthew grinned and giddily nodded. "Oh, yes, please. It would do him a world of good."

"Will—" Tessa went to chide in exasperation but Ainsley cut her off.

"Oh come on Aunt Tess, you know you agree with him." Tessa couldn't stop her smile at that. But Ainsley then crossed her arms over chest. "By the way, he does know that he's not Consul yet, right?" She questioned.

Will and Tessa shared a look before turning to their foster daughter. "He knows, Annie," Tessa said. "But he's the closest thing we've got while Charlotte's in Idris."

"No, Uncle Will'a the closest we've got. He's the Head of the Institute and an adult. I'd rather let my life depend on his strategy then that of a slimy little g-"

"I'm going to take her inside," Matthew quickly cut her of, grabbing her by the shoulders and stirring the Ashwood girl towards the door. 

Ainsley tried to protest and move out of his grip but it proved to be in vain. Instead the boy ducked down and grabbed her waist, throwing the short girl over his shoulder. He smiled pleasantly at Bridget who exited with a spear in her hands. Too used to their antics, the cook didn't even spare them a confused look.

The Fairchild boy finally put her down when they stood in the hall outside Lucie's and her rooms -they were right across the hall from each other. Ainsley whirled on him, her black eyes narrowed. "What was that for?"

"Calm down," Matthew said. He moved a little closer, his hand gently cupping her face. "I know you're hurting, Leo. But you have to regain control over your anger. No matter how much my brother deserves your hate and your rage, you can't become this person."

"He-"

"I know what he did," Matthew's green eyes were so serious that Ainsley let out a couple of shaky breaths while she stared right into them. "I know what he did to Marcus. And I am sure the last thing you want is for yours, your brother's and everyone else's fate rest in his hands. But there's nothing we can do about it."

The Ashwood quickly entered the boy's embrace, her normally calm and clear voice cracked. "What's happening to me Matthew?"

"You're worried and tired and all the emotions you've kept bottled up inside are coming to the surface." Matthew places his chin into her brown hair as her hands tightened around the fabric at his waist. "It's perfectly normal, Leo. We'll figure something out. You'll get through this."

"How do you know that?"

The blonde pulled away but stayed close, his hands holding Ainsley's vulnerable face as those green meadows met the spilled ink of the half-Korean's glossy orbs. "Because you, Ainsley Leonie Ashwood, are the strongest person I know. You can face anything. You will face this and come out victorious on the other side."

Neither of them moved as time seemed to slow around them. They both stared right into the pools of each other's eyes. It was as though they were each trying to decipher one of the many secrets that lurked in the other's soul.

They seemed to notice their faces, inching closer and closer together but neither dared pull away. They were breathing the exact same air, their respiration mingling together. Ainsley's eyes momentarily flickered to the boy's lips. She wondered what they would taste like. Spicy whiskey? Or maybe the sweet vanilla that wafted of him? Would he taste of a light summer breeze or the cold winter snow? 

She wanted to find out.

And as if he read her mind, Matthew's head lowered a little more. Their noses nudged each other, almost as if the boy was asking for permission. And their lips were mere millimetres apart. His lips barely brushed hers and she felt as though she was on fire, a fire Ainsley didn't realize she could burn wi- "Annie!"

Everything shattered. 

The two teenagers jumped apart, flustered and with pink tinged cheeks. James, Cordelia and Lucie didn't seem to notice as they raced over.

The younger brunette quickly threw her arms around her foster sister. "Are you alright, Annie?"

"I'm fine, Lu," The half-Korean tired to send her a reassuring smile, her mind still slightly fuzzy.

James however didn't look as though he believed her. "Well, why don't we all go sit down and try to figure out what we heard and saw at Gast's flat."

He was trying to be subtle about his will that both his sisters rest and take it easy.

"Dear Raziel, he's using his worried voice," Ainsley grimaced a she looked down at Lucie. The younger girl only nodded with a grave look.

James wasn't nearly as amused. He rolled his gold eyes and turned the knob of his blood sister's door and pushed it open. "I'm sorry I care about my sisters," he spoke dryly. "Now get in."

The two girls shared a glance and lightly giggled -Ainsley's much weaker then Lucie's. But they listened for they did appreciate James Herondale's concern. So to please their brother they entered the room and sat down as he asked.

.

"SO, JESSAMINE," SAID LUCIE. "CAN ghosts lie?"

Ainsley placed her chin on her knees. She was holding her limbs close to her chest under the blankets James and Matthew had wrapped around her despite her constant insistence that she was fine. Though it did make her feel better that Lucie got the same treatment. It was really James being a worried brother and trying to make sure his sisters were fine.

They had decided to set up camp in Lucie's room and not Ainsley's for the simple reason that every surface other then her bed was covered with books, sketches and sketch pads, boxes filled with pens and pencils of different sorts. There might have also been dresses laying around. The point was it was a mess and nobody had the patience to clean it.

Lucie and Cordelia were both sat on the sofa. Ainsley had pulled Lucie's desk chair closer to where everyone else was. As for Matthew and James... well let's say that they were being typical boys, sprawled across two identical armchairs.

Everyone had their gaze turned up to Jessamine Lovelace in all gee ghostly glory. Though only the three children of the Institute could see her.

"Certainly not!" The woman cried in offence. "Ghosts are completely honest. I keep telling you, it was mice who knocked your silver mirror behind the desk and broke it."

Ainsley physically winced at how terrible of a lie that was. "Jessie, why don't you leave the lying to me?"

"It appears clear that if ghosts are liars, they are terrible liars," James added in agreement.

Matthew looked at his three friends with a sigh and mused. "It is very strange to see you conversing with the invisible."

Jessamine huffed but got down to the floor as she did. The lines of her body turned bolder. She quivered ever so slightly but Cordelia and Matthew could now participate in the conversation too. For if a ghost chose to become visible, Shadowhunters with a voyance rune could see them too.

"Oh!" Cordelia smiled brightly. "It's very nice to meet you, Jessamine. Lucie speaks of you often."

The ghost smiled widely. It was then Matthew's turn to react. The boy tilted his head and noticed, "You are a very attractive ghost. I do hope Leo, Lucie and James have mentioned as much."

"They have not," Jessamine strongly declared.

"You do realize that we'd be calling her Aunt Jessamine if she hadn't died, right?" Ainsley raised an eyebrow. "She's only a few months older then Uncle Will."

"Annie!" The deceased woman complained with a smirk. "I get that you're jealous that your boy isn't paying attention to you, but I never get complimented anymore."

The half-Korean's cheeks flushed a deep red as she stuttered, "I-I'm not jealous!" Her voice was almost a squeak. "And he's not- he's not my boy. I don't have a boy!" The girl groaned and buried her head into the blankets while the others all chuckled at her embarrassment though everyone noticed Matthew's face tinging a shade of red too.

When nobody made any move to change the conversation back to its original track, the Ashwood girl looked up. "Okay, seriously Jess, can ghosts lie? This is important!" Ainsley was kind of surprised when Lucie had first questioned this. But it did make sense. 

"Not you, of course, my dear," the Herondale girl added.

The Ashwood girl then also said, a hint of desperation in her voice. "This could help Marcus."

If she wasn't a ghost, Jessamine probably would have paled. Out of all if the youngsters living at the Institute, it was no secret that Marcus Ashwood was her favourite. "Ghosts can lie. But there are certain forms of necromancy that can compel them to tell the truth, and even to allow the living to control them." She explained, a shivered making her frame waver ever so slightly. "That is why necromancy is so dreadful and forbidden."

"Wait, really?" Ainsley tilted her head to the side. "It's not the whole, needing that hands of murderers, or seven human souls and all that other nonsense?"

Cordelia looked rather doubtful about Jessamine's statement. Her and the older girl shared a look before shrugging. "Are you worried Gast's ghost might have been lying?" She then turned to Lucie.

The Herondale girl hesitated. But then she finally and carefully spoke, "I just don't want us to go off on a wild-goose chase. Gast was insistent that someone extraordinarily powerful hired him to summon these demons. We need to find out who that was."

"We also need to know what kind of demons these are," stated Cordelia. 

"Yeah, it's not like we can just go up to the Enclave and go, 'Hey, so we found this warlock who claims to have raised poisonous demons that only kill Shadowhunters. We didn't tell you about it because we gave our word to another warlock that we wouldn't. Anyways, how's your day been?'" When everyone turned to Ainsley with a raised eyebrow the girl looked adorably confused. "What?" She pouted.

"Nothing, Leo," Matthew smiled fondly.

"And we already know these demons bear poison." The redhead reminded. "We do not know why their poison is so deadly, or what Gast did so they can appear in daylight."

"This all seems very dull," Jessamine complained her hands on her hips. "If you don't need me, I'll be going." And she evaporated in white mist.

"Annie, could yo- thank you," Lucie grabbed the notebooks Ainsley had grabbed from her desk. She opened it to a blank page as she noted, "There is another odd thing. We know Gast raised multiple demons, but he kept referring to one demon. He said he raised it, not them."

"Perhaps the demon had offspring. Some demons have dozens of spawn, like spiders—"

James was cut of by the clatter of a carriage arriving at great speed ringing in the courtyard. After a beat passed, yells were quick to follow. All three Institute residents were on their feet and peering out the window.

"What in the world?" Ainsley mumbled as her eyes fell upon the familiar symbol on the side of the carriage that had darkened their doorstep. Four Cs. The symbol of the Consul. 

That was Charles and Matthew's family carriage.

And things only got odder from there. Grace Blackthorn was the one who tumbled out. Her voice raised into a high scream and cries. Her hair was open over her frail-looking shoulders and she would never be able to wear her dress again, for it was stained with blood.

As the brunette girl placed a hand on her foster brother's arm and drew calming circles with her thumb, she soon came to realise that it wasn't the ivory-haired girl's blood. No, it became plainly obvious when Brother Enoch's tall and imposing frame gently picked a body from inside the vehicle. One look at the fuchsia dress and Ainsley knew exactly who it was.

Tatiana Blackthorn. Tatiana Blackthorn in all of her evil glory had been attacked. And Ainsley couldn't help but feel sorry for her and Grace.

"By the Angel," Matthew breathed from where he and Cordelia had approached the window. "Another attack."

She knew what James was going to do. So when the boy took of running towards the infirmary, Ainsley Ashwood had but one choice. 

Because no matter how much she might hate Grace Blackthorn, Ainsley Leonie Ashwood loved her foster brother and she had no intention of letting him go through this on his own.

.

IT DIDN'T TAKE THE TWO foster siblings long to breach into the infirmary at a hurried pace. But it was quick to falter, especially for the young girl when they took in the sight of the place.

Screens surrounded every bed along the west wall. The wall of the poisoned, Ainsley had decided to call it. One could only make out the patients' silhouettes in the pale light, immobile as corpses under the covers of the beds. If she didn't know better, the young girl would have assumed that they were corpses. 

Tatiana Blackthorn had been carried to the end of the room and placed on two beds that were pushed together. Her frame was twisting and turning as blood stained the sheets and the floor. James took his foster sister's hand and they tentatively approached. As they grew closer, they noticed the tear on her arm and shoulder, both slick with crimson like the graying hair getting matted to her forehead.

She wasn't alone though. Grace was there, kneeling at the foot of her mother's bed, hands held together like a prayer. Then there was Brother Enoch. He was hovering over her with a beaker of blue fluid in his hand. Drops of it dripped into Tatiana's mouth from a pipette. 

Jem was there too. Bandages were gently held between his fingers, still wet from antiseptic the Brotherhood had doused it with. 

Ainsley let her eyes shift over the slumbering form of each of the patients on their beds. Piers, Vespasia, Gerald, Ariadne, Marcus. They looked almost peaceful, as though they were taking a nap after a long day's work. Ainsley's brain desperately tried to cling to that thought. Oh, how badly she wanted to think that they were all just resting. 

But she couldn't.

Not with the blackness that was seeping into their veins. Not with them becoming more and more visible on the skin of their arms and necks with every passing second.

Hello, James. Hello, Ainsley.

Jem's voice in her mind was a soothing lullaby. The young girl turned her worried eyes to him, her jumbled thoughts almost instantly relaxing. 

She squeezed James' hand before let her eyes fall back on the woman she hated. Will she live? her mind spoke this with genuine worry.

If she dies, it will not be because of these injuries you see here. 

Well that wasn't ominous at all! Neither was it promising. Jem was probably referencing the poison that must have imbedded itself under Tatiana's skin. 

Ainsley honestly couldn't help but curse Gast in her mind. If he hadn't already been dead by the time the group reached the warlock's flat, she probably would have killed him herself. But no, Emanuel Gast was long gone and had given them nothing but cryptic answers -why couldn't things ever be easy for them?- and a poisoning demon.

"James." Both teenagers turned to see Grace Blackthorn latch herself onto James Herondale's arm as though he were a life line. She looked as pale as ever. And despite her hate for the girl, Ainsley couldn't help but feel sorry for her. She knew exactly what Grace was going through and it was a feeling she wouldn't wish on anyone. Not even Grace. 

The half-Korean didn't pay the pair any mind. Her hand slipped from James' -not that he noticed- and her feet took her to her brother's bed side. She sat down, her eyes filling with tears as she looked at Marcus and his pale face. 

Ainsley held her brother's hand, smoothing his hair out and let her heart shatter at the sight of him in this state, completely unaware that her second brother was leaving to get his own heart broken in another way.

.

AINSLEY STAYED PERCHED AT HER brother's side for only Raziel knows how long. She had taken her place in a chair right next to him, her fingers tightly tangled with his limp ones.

This wasn't right. She was the reckless one who always landed herself in the infirmary with a broken limb. Not Marcus. No, he was the good older brother. He would sit by her side and tell her stories about his day, he would read to her, he would sneak into the kitchens and bring back some pastries Bridget had whipped up and they would devour them together.

Marcus Ashwood was the strong one. He wouldn't move from Ainsley's bedside until she was completely better. He would stay by his sibling and keep her company through her pain, not once even considering to leave her.

"Please get better," Ainsley pleaded as she leaned forward. She brought her brother's hand to her lips and kissed it. "Oppa, jebal. I can't do this without you. Please don't leave me too."

Tears rolled from her eyes down to her cheeks before falling onto the boy's pale hand. She had tried to be strong for the past couple of days but the strength in her was wearing out. After the news about Barbara, Ainsley's fear was increased. It didn't just double but rather quadrupled. 

For the longest time, the young girl was convinced that no harm could come to Marcus. He was a kind angel who deserved all the goodness the world had to offer. Always willing to give others his strength and optimism, Marcus Ashwood was a blessing upon the Earth.

But he wasn't an angel. 

He was human and just as vulnerable as any other. His life was finite. There was only one other time when the young girl had had that realisation, in the summer before the Academy. A memory she had kept buried deep at the back of her brain. A memory that had been trying escape since the picnic at Regent's park and sign Charles Buford Fairchild's death warrant.

It was funny how Ainsley was sitting next to her dying brother when she had always been certain that she would die before him. With all the unnecessary risks and reckless decisions, nobody would be surprised. Some people were probably wishing that the Ashwood siblings' roles were reversed.

Ainsley was a part of them.

She didn't get to dwell on it much longer however, the sound of boots growing louder taking her attention. The girl got up after wiping her tears just as Anna Lightwood burst into the room, a rather confused looking Cordelia on her heels.

"Anna?" Ainsley furrowed her eyebrows.

The older girl's determined walk falter ever so slightly when she noticed her friend. "Annie. What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to spend some time with my brother," she looked back at to look at her brother.

"How is he?" Her eyes saddened. "How are you?"

"The same," the half-Korean shrugged with her arms coming to cross over her chest. "Now, what are you doing here?"

"Ariadne..." Anna's voice trailed off. She seemed to completely forget that she had been speaking to her friend. Instead, she when to the bed that was next to Marcus'. Anna easily swerved around the screens and went to her bedside, Ainsley and Cordelia following after a shared look.

They watched as the Lightwood girl knelt at her bedside, her blue eyes never leaving the ill girl's frame after assuring herself that Ainsley and Cordelia were there. 

Ariadne Bridgestock looked much like Marcus; a far cry from her normal self. Her rich brown skin was pale and covered with the black marks of her veins, crossing and curling almost like tree branches. Her hair was dark against the white pillows where she rested with closed eyes.

There was something odd about seeing Anna Lightwood vulnerable. Ainsley wasn't used to see her friend as anything other then confident. Her fingers carefully threaded with Cordelia's, the half-Persian squeezing it tightly to say that she was feeling the same as her. They felt out of place, as though they were intruding on a private moment.

Two sets of dark eyes rested on Anna's slumped shoulders as she barely grazed Ariadne's fingers with her own. She looked almost conflicted but didn't. Instead she sighed and spoke in a calm and soothing voice, "Ariadne. When you wake up—and you will wake up—I want you to remember this. It was never a sign of your worth that Charles Fairchild wanted to marry you. It is a measure of his lack of worth that he chose to break it off in such a manner."

Ainsley didn't even try to contain her surprise and outrage as she demanded. "I'm sorry, he did what now?"

"He broke it off?" Cordelia whispered, turning to Ainsley only to find her with a hateful look. She had come to the conclusion that the Ashwoods didn't really like Charles. She had come to that conclusion back during the ball the day after her arrival.

This was definitely going to make the older girl hate her more. 

To break off an engagement was a very big deal. It only ever happened if one party discovered a terrible secret like and affair or a crime from the past. They weren't things that one could change their mind about like a dress or a book. For Charles to break off his engagement to Ariadne while she lay at the Institute dying just proved that he was the egocentric, power-hungry, despicable bastard she knew him to be. Except now, others would see it too.

"Please don't die," Anna spoke softly with a gentle touch to Ariadne's forehead.

And she left. Cordelia was much too surprised by the whole exchange she had witnessed to do anything but Ainsley was another story. She let go of her new friend and took off after the Lightwood girl, the puzzle pieces clicking together in her brain.

Ariadne Bridgestock. She was more then just a friend to Anna. Ainsley felt stupid for not noticing earlier. It was so obvious! The stares when she thought the Indian girl wasn't looking, the delicate touches when she was hurt, the sweet nicknames, the sudden hate for Charles -though the last one wasn't exactly questioned too deeply for obvious reasons. To add to all that, Anna officially came out a couple weeks after becoming friends with the girl.

The answer had been staring the Ashwood girl in the face for two years and she hadn't noticed it. 

She wanted to talk, get answers but unfortunately, Anna was quick. By the time the young girl reached the entry hall, she was long gone and Ainsley was left to sigh disappointedly with her hands on her hips.

She turned to leave only to get hit by a tall frame. It didn't stop however, leaving through Institute door so quick that the brunette didn't even get the opportunity to see who it was. The only thing that tipped her off about her offender's identity was Matthew's voice calling, "James!" She blinked before turning to find the boy looking slightly defeated that his parabatai had already left.

"What happened to him?"

The blonde sighed and approached her as she moved the shoulder she had injured the previous evening in slight circles to diffuse the pain that shot through at her collision with James. "Grace Blackthorn. That's what happened."

"By the Angel, what did she do now? Do I need to kill her?"

Matthew let his lips tilt upwards into a gentle and momentary smile. "You'll probably want to after I tell you." When Ainsley shot him an impatient look he sighed. "She broke of their arrangement."

"What?" The girl was baffled. This is the second time she's hearing about a relationship being broken in the same hour. Her anger was on the rise again. 

"Yeah, apparently she's gone and -"

"Let me guess," the half-Korean practically seethed, "gotten engaged to your brother?"

The boy furrowed his eyebrows. "How'd you know?"

The confirmation just made her blood boil. Grace Blackthorn and Charles Buford Fairchild. These two cruel and manipulative evil-doers truly deserved each other. 

She didn't reply to his question and said, "If you'll excuse me, Matthew. There's a punching bag in the training room I have to destroy and it's got Charles and Grace written all over it," stalking away when she finished.

.

CURSES LEFT THE SEAMS OF Matthew Fairchild's mouth as he stood on the Institute steps. Night had fallen and James still hadn't come back. So Matthew took it upon himself to find his parabatai and get him back safe.

But for that he had to get the buttons of his jacket closed. A task that was proving most tricky with the endless tremor of his hands.

One more frustrated cuss left him when it clearly wasn't working. His voice was now grumbling under his breath while his hand went to dig through his pocket for his silver flask. 

One small sip. One small sip and his hands would be steady enough for the simple task of buttoning up his coat. 

He could practically hear Ainsley's voice and see the disappointment in her eyes at how far he had let the situation come and how bad he'd let it get. The last thing he'd ever want is to cause her harm. But he knew that the other option was her hating him. And he couldn't live with the thought of living in a world where the woman he loved hate the mere sight of him.

"Was James—did he seem all right?" 

Matthew narrowed his green eyes when he turned to the steps of the Institute and found Grace Blackthorn there. She had thrown a grey shawl over her frail shoulders that covered most of her bloodstained dress.

While others had referred to Grave as beautiful, the Consul's second son couldn't say he agreed. She wasn't hard on the eyes, sure. But her lack of colour other then snow was off putting and odd. And of course, no one measured up to the beauty of Ainsley Leonie Ashwood.

That girl could be wearing rags that were falling apart at the seams with her hair disheveled and face smeared with grease and dirt and Matthew would still think she was the most beautiful girl in the world.

You are more beautiful then I imagined. His own words echoing in his mind. The words he'd spoken to her on their first meeting, back when the world was a little less complicated.

Ever since that, she always found ways to knock the breath from his lungs and make his heart beat for her and his fingers long to touch her. He wanted to kiss her and come home to her in the evening. But he couldn't. Not with what he'd done.

The boy could reminisce on simpler times later when he wasn't stood face-to-face with the She-devil. "Of course he isn't all right," Matthew snapped. "Neither am I. You're marrying Charles, and none of us wants that."

"You don't understand." The girl had pulled the shawl around her so tightly that her bony shoulders were easily distinguished through the material that looked as delicate as a spider's web. "We all do what we must. I am doing what I have to do."

"James has loved you, sincerely, since he was a child. And now you tear his heart to pieces? And for what? Charles will never feel half of what James feels for you."

Grace scoffed as her voice filled with contempt Matthew didn't think she capable of. Never more had he realized that he wasn't the only one to use his appearence to trick others. "Feelings. That is all men think women want, isn't it? Sympathy—sentiment—nonsense. I have never felt any tenderness for anything or anyone living—"

"Have you truly never felt anything for anyone?"

A beat passed. And then another before she stated, "My brother. But then, he is not now living."

"So you never cared for James at all."

Is this what Ainsley felt like when there was a huge break in one of the mysteries she surrounded herself in? It probably wasn't since Ainsley always got the biggest smile on her face when she figured something out. She would smile and jump on the balls of her feet with joy.

But all he was feeling was pure disgust and hate for the girl in front of him. "Has James disappointed you in some way? Or were you just tired of him before you even came to London? All the time you've spent with Charles, all the bloody carriage rides, all the whispering in corners—Lord, you planned this like a military campaign, didn't you? If the first regiment falls, always have a replacement at the ready." Matthew scoffed. "I told myself I was a fool for being suspicious that you were going behind James's back. I even tried to convince Ainsley that she was overreacting about you. I didn't imagine half the truth. Thank the Angel that she's smart and knows better."

"You would not be wise to spread such rumors. Let it be, Matthew." Grace ordered almost as though she were scared.

His green eyes narrowed in fury as he moved back to the buttons of his coat. "I cannot. Charles is a bastard, but even he doesn't deserve—"

"Matthew," the boy was startled to find that she was right next to him, her hand resting on his elbow. He hadn't noticed the girl move towards him. He hadn't heard her moving either. For some reason, he felt as though he was betraying Ainsley with Grace this close. Her face was tilted up to him, her eyes widened in an innocent manner.  
Her small hand went up and down his arm and no matter how much he wanted to, the blonde boy couldn't break away. It was horrible.

"You feel something for me now, don't you?" Grace's voice made it sound like she already knew the answer and was only asking to toy with him. "Kiss me." She ordered. "I demand that you do."

It was as if someone had taken over his body and was making him do thing he didn't want to. Because as soon as she said that, Matthew's hands went to her waist and pulled her into him, his mouth descending to meet hers. He kissed her. He kissed her, letting the taste of tea leaves soak into him and let him forget about everything else. 

This was so much different then the moment he had shared with Ainsley earlier that day in the hall between her and Lucie's bedrooms. There, their lips had barely grazed each other and Matthew felt alive. He was filled with want and love. It was a far cry from here where he was kissing Grace with all his might but he felt nothing. His lips moved against hers and trailed to her cheek but his mind was filled with images of Ainsley Ashwood. Her smile, her laugh, those eyebrows she always raised at him, her adorable pout. 

And then he was in control of himself again. 

Grace had backed away from him. The reality of his actions sunk in as he backed away, horrified. Her eyes were set on him with a look so cold and cruel that Matthew regretted ever questioning Ainsley's hate for the girl. "You—" he couldn't even say it. It was absolutely ridiculous. You made me do that. How could Grace make him do it? But it wasn't his own volition either.

There was only one girl in the world Matthew actually want to kiss and that wasn't Grace Blackthorn.

Her words were cold and emotionless. "If you get in my way after this, if you do anything to impede my marriage to Charles, I will tell James you kissed me. And I will tell your brother, too."

"As if they do not already know I am a terrible person," Matthew spoke but he was obviously distracted. Guilt was knotting his stomach.

"Oh, Matthew. You have no idea what terrible people are like."

Grace turned away leaving the boy stood alone in the front of the Institute, his thoughts haunted by thoughts of a girl he had loved for the past four years of his life and horror of what he had just done.

Little did he know, that a small shadow had witnessed the whole thing, tears streaming the long of her delicate face as she watched the boy break even more.

.

A/N  
Ahhhh!! They almost kissed!!! And just sibling moments! And Ainsley's realisation about Arianna!! And Matthew's POV!! God, I hate Grace so much! Though, I have a feeling Chain of Iron might make me change my mind. I truly don't know how to feel a out that 🤔   
💕 ONE MORE WEEK TILL CHAIN OF IRON! WE CAN DO IT! I BELIEVE IN US! 💕  
Anyways, I hope you all liked this chapter and all that happened in it! And yes, I will explain what happened between Marcus and Charles eventually.

.


	14. XIII.

.

BLUE RUIN

Twenty bridges from Tower to Kew  
Wanted to know what the river knew,  
For they were young, and the Thames was old,  
And this is the tale that the River told.

—Rudyard Kipling, "The River's Tale"

.

SLEEP WAS A WONDERFUL THING. Just a few hours every night where you laid and bed and relaxed. Where you replenished your energy and woke up all bright and ready to confront a new day.

Unfortunately, despite her exhaustion, sleep seemed to be evading Ainsley Ashwood at every twist and turn. Every time she closed her eyes, convinced that she would finally get the rest she needed, an unwelcome image surged in.

Sometimes it was Marcus, pale and sickly, the black veins resembling the branches that intertwined on their family ring. Other times it was Thomas' sadness at the loss of his oldest sister. And now, a new image had added itself to the mix. Matthew bending down to hungrily kiss Grace's lips. 

That last one was the one that kept coming back that night. 

Unable to deal with it anymore, Ainsley sat up with a groan of frustration. 

Raziel, she was jealous! She had heard everything and she knew that Matthew would never voluntarily do that. But her heart couldn't help but clench and clench at the thought of that witch getting to know how Matthew Fairchild's lips felt against her own. 

Every time the scene played over in her head, she could feel her heart breaking and her tears slipping from her cheeks. She couldn't imagine how Matthew must be feeling. He was forced into an act against his will.

How was that even possible? It made no sense. 

Knowing she was getting any sleep anyways, Ainsley plucked herself out of bed, witchlight in hand. She grabbed her dressing gown and pulled it over her nightgown, padding over to the desk. The girl pushed a pair of black framed glasses up her nose and grabbed a fresh piece of paper, scribbling down theories as to how Grace did what she did onto it. She had deduced the why of the situation. The how still remained a mystery though.

She didn't know how long had passed when the stamping of feet was heard outside her door. With furrowed eyebrows, the half-Korean got to her feet after discarding her spectacles. She gently pulled open the door, peeking her head through to find Matthew Fairchild carrying a very drunk James Herondale.

"By the Angel," Ainsley quickly got out of her room, grabbing James' other side as she filled with worry.

"Leo? Did I wake you?" Matthew looked confused and then apologetic. "I'm so sorr-"

"I couldn't sleep, don't worry about it," she waved of as she helped the blonde carry his parabatai until his room which was a little more down the hall from her and Lucie. "What happened?"

"Jamie here got drunk," the pair finally reached his room, the girl reaching to twist open the doorknob. 

When they were inside they lead James to his bed. Ainsley went to pull back the covers from the bed. They were out of the way just in time for James to land on them when Matthew couldn't seem to hold onto him anymore. 

The Ashwood girl rolled her eyes at the boy's dramatics. She quickly unlaced her foster brother's boots and gently slid of his jacket. She then tucked him in like a mother might. The girl sat at his bedside for a second, smoothing out his black curls before placing a kiss on his forehead. "Good night, Jamie."

Hopefully you'll get a good night sleep, little brother.

With that, the brunette girl got up. She felt a hand on her shoulder and let it guide her outside into the hall. When she was back in the hall and out of the darkness that had been invading James' room, Ainsley let her eyes fall on the blonde boy in front of her. 

Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. His hair was all over the place because of the wind but it still made him look as handsome as ever, his cheeks and nose red from the cold. His coat was buttoned to his throat, contrasting largely with Ainsley's flimsy nightgown and dressing robe.

She crossed her arms over her chest, slightly self-conscious under those sad green eyes.

"Thank you for helping. He is so much heavier then he looks," Matthew smiled.

Ainsley tried to smile back but she couldn't. It's as if her mouth muscles had been frozen into a frown and her eyebrows wanted to permanently stay furrowed. Looking at him, all she could think about was Grace telling him to kiss her and him doing it.

"Leo?" Matthew tilted his head confused by the way she was looking at him.

Her mouth opened to speak but no words came out. No matter how much she tried, the half-Korean girl's voice seemed trapped in her throat. 

"By the Angel," she finally managed to whisper as she looked away. Her face came to rest in her hands. Why was it so hard to tell him what she saw and heard? Why was it so hard to tell Matthew that she was here if he needed to talk?

Two cold hands removed her own from her face. One of them then tilted her chin up so that she was looking at the boy. "What's going on Ainsley?"

Ainsley. He only ever called her by her given name if he was really worried. She was worrying him with her worry for him. That was truly the last thing the brunette had wanted to do.

She took a deep breath through her nose before finally asking, "Are you alright?" Her voice was small and on the verge of cracking.

She hated how vulnerable and weak she felt these days.

"Of course I'm alright," Matthew tried to smile in a carefree manner but there was confusion and fear in his eyes. "I'm always alright."

"Please don't lie to me," Ainsley begged. "You lie to me about many things, Matthew I beg of you, please don't lie to me about how you're feeling too."

Matthew looked very confused but then it dawned him. "You saw, didn't you?" Ainsley didn't trust herself to speak and just nodded instead. Matthew let out a sigh, dragging a hand through his hair. "H-how come?" He stuttered.

"I was looking for you after I calmed down. Wondered if you knew if Jamie had come back." Ainsley bit her lower lip. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop. Math, I swear. You were just there and it looked serious and I wasn't sure if I should interrupt and then it just-" she broke of, unable to continue.

Matthew looked almost lost and scared. His hands were shaking as he went to undo the buttons of his coat and his breath coming out shallow.

He wasn't alright like he claimed. 

The brunette girl gently peeled his hands away. She began to undo the buttons, her black eyes noticing Matthew's own glossing over slightly as his shaky hands fidgeted together. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head furiously. Ainsley didn't push him. She took his hand and started leading him down to her room.

The girl knew it was risky. If anyone ever found that the her and Matthew had been alone in her bedroom at night, she could be ruined. But Ainsley honestly couldn't bring herself to care. 

Matthew Fairchild was one of the most important people in her world and he was on the verge of an emotional breakdown. He might not tell her about the things that weighed on his heart or the demons that plagued his mind, but Ainsley knew that the blonde was like a man hanging onto a cliff. He had been keeping strong and holding for a long time but after two years, his arms were sagging and his fingers slipping. They harder he tried to keep his grip, the fast he began losing it.

Matthew was about to let go and Ainsley planned to be there to catch him. 

Just as they made it inside the room, her witchlight still shining at her desk and casting a bright light all around the room, the Fairchild boy's tears began to fall. Ainsley gently lead him to her bed, sitting him down. She carefully sat down in his lap, pulling him close. Matthew's arms instantly wrapped around her waist, his face buried into her neck as he nuzzled closer to her. Softs sobs raked his body, his shoulders shaking as Ainsley gently took off his coat and let it rest next to them. The half-Korean pulled him as humanly close as she could, her fingers gently weaving through his golden locks. 

She was furious. She was furious as Grace Blackthorn for doing this to him. She was furious at whatever had happened to him two years ago, what had happened to him the first time he had cried in her arms. She was furious as the world for making a boy as sweet and caring and kind as Matthew Fairchild suffer like this.

But in a way she was also touched. Matthew may not talk about what happened to him, about what made him the person he was. The brunette hated it with a burning passion. But the fact that he was comfortable enough to let her see him vulnerable made her heart flutter. Because that meant that he trusted her to keep this between them. He trusted her to be able to care for him and love him when he felt broke and alone.

So Ainsley Ashwood didn't say anything. She just held Matthew close and let him cry his heart out, waiting for the storm to pass.

.

"PLEASE TELL ME YOU SLEPT at a decent hour last night."

Ainsley looked up at Thomas over the rim of her cup of tea. They sat in front of each other, the breakfast table covered with teapots, an urn of coffee, eggs, bacon, mushrooms, toast, kedgeree and many other things. "I slept at a decent hour last night."

"Now the truth."

She should have known that he'd see through her lie. While being a pathetic liar himself, Thomas Lightwood could somehow always tell when his parabatai -who is the most skilled liar in their group of friends by the way- was lying to him. "Fine," she grumbled with an eye roll, "I slept at five."

"Fi-" the Lightwood boy barely kept himself from yelling. He stopped himself with a sigh. "Are you telling me you are running on three hours of sleep right now?"

"On the bright side, it's the most I've slept this week."

Thomas however was not in a joking mood as he sent her a deadpan look and chided, "Ainsley, you have to sleep! You'll collapse from exhaustion!"

"Thomas, I get that you're concerned and I love you for it," the girl picked herself out of her seat and walked around the table so that she might sit next to the tall boy. She took his hand in hers and tangled their fingers together. "But believe me when I say that I can't. I have been trying but sleep just won't come. There is really only one thing I want after Marcus recovering and that is to be able to sleep through the night for once."

Thomas sighed. He pulled the girl into his arms and placed a kiss on her crown. "I'm sorry. I'm worried about you." He looked down at the girl, one of his hands gently holding her cheek. "I'm your parabatai, Ainsley. I can feel that you aren't fine. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you and it was because I didn-"

"Tom, I'm right here," the girl cupped his cheek too. "I'm not going anywhere, my love."

This definitely wasn't how Ainsley had pictured breakfast with Thomas going that morning. She hated worrying him but it's not like she was purposely not sleeping. All the half-Korean girl wanted was to be able to sleep. But it just laughed at her.

In all honesty, if it hadn't been for Matthew the previous night, she might have slept even less. 

After the blonde boy had cried all the tears he had in his body, the pair just sat there. When he was finally ready to pull away, his green eyes were red and puffy as he look up at Ainsley. The girl didn't care however, she just wiped the couple remaining tears away and kissed his forehead.

"I'm always here if you need me," she assured, her thumbs gently stroking his cheekbones.

"I know," Matthew leaned his forehead to hers. "Thank you."

When he moved back, the boy noticed the black circles lining the girl's eyes. His lips formed a curse as he gently traced it with his fingertips. "You need sleep. I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to apologise for. I'd rather know that you're alright and fine. And just because I need sleep doesn't mean I'm getting any."

Matthew shook his head with a small smile. He motioned for the girl to get up. So she did and watched the boy rise to his full height too. He instructed her to get into bed before going to the clustered desk. Albeit confused, Ainsley still listened. She slipped her robe of and laid down under the covers and against the pillows, her black eyes following Matthew's frame.

He finally came back towards her, the witchlight in one hand and a book in the other. The blonde gently sat in the space next to her on the bed, placed the rune stone on the brunette's bedside table and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Try and relax and sleep will come easily."

"You're going to read to me?" She raised an eyebrow. "Like parents read to their children?"

The boy raised his eyebrows back. "Remind me, who begs James to read to her?"

Ainsley rolled her eyes but smiled with a slight blush. "Touché."

So Matthew opened 'The Picture of Dorian Gray' to the first page and began reading. Soon enough, his deep and calm voice lulled the Ashwood girl to sleep.

When she woke up three hours later, the only sign of Matthew ever being there was the book of her bedside with a note slipped inside.

Ainsley scoffed but still smiled. "Ass."

But after that she had gotten ready for the day and made her way to breakfast. Thomas had been there, waiting.

After her and her parabatai were done with their heart-to-heart, Ainsley moved back around to her spot. She picked up her cup of tea, sipping at it as Thomas leaned his elbows on the back of his chair. 

"Christopher and I were thinking of working in the lab at the Devil today," he informed. "Do you want to join us?"

Ainsley looked guilty. "You know I'd love to, but-"

"You want to see Marcus one more time before they move him to the Silent City and want to make sure James is already after last night," Thomas managed a smile.

"I'm sorry," the girl groaned and lamented. "I'm a horrible parabatai."

"Hey! None of that! It's not your fault one of your brothers is on his deathbed and the other is an idiot. I get it."

Ainsley looked at the boy, a slight sigh leaving her. "What did I do so right that I got such an amazing parabatai?" Thomas bashfully looked away, his face tinging red. The brunette girl quickly gulped down the last of her tea. "Come on, I'll walk you out before heading to the infirmary."

.

THE INFIRMARY OF THE LONDON Institute was rarely used before this incident. 

While Ainsley was prone to injury, she was usually allowed to stay and heal in her room surrounded by her books and sketchbooks and art supplies. 

The infirmary was usually just this giant room that no one used. 

It was so odd to Ainsley that it was now a place she came every day to check on her brother. It had become a bit of a habit. It wasn't one she liked -for obvious reasons- but it was something she was going to miss with all the wounded being moved to the Silent City. Tessa had informed her of this that morning and Ainsley promised herself that she would come and visit Marcus one last time before he was taken away. 

And then the infirmary would go back to the way it had been for years. Empty and unused.

Her boot clad feet walked the route there after walking Thomas to the Institute gates where Christopher waited. She could walk it with her eyes closed. But what she wasn't used to seeing when she usually reached her brother's bedside was an anxious Alastair Carstairs.

He didn't notice her but the half-Korean couldn't hide her surprise as she said, "Alastair."

The boy quickly got to his feet. His hand were firmly planted behind his back as he stood straight and gazed at the girl. "Miss Ashwood."

One of Ainsley's sculpted eyebrows rose. "It's Ainsley and you don't have to be all jumpy," she managed a small smile as she approached her brother from the other side. "He's your friend. You have every right to visit him."

Alastair managed to mirror her smile back. "I know you aren't entirely fond of me so I wasn't sure you'd want me-"

"Alastair, you're his best friend. I have no say in whether or not you get to visit him. He'd want you here."

"He says I'm his best friend?"

The young girl looked over at the Carstairs boy and saw that his face was bewildered and happy at the same time. She grew confused by it. "Yeah. You didn't know?"

Alastair shook his head. "He's the only actual friend I've ever had. I knew he liked me but I never thought that Marcus would consider me his best friend. Not with all the people he's friends with and how nice he is."

Ainsley couldn't keep the smile from her face. It was sweet to see Alastair Carstairs as something different then a bully. He looked so sweet and happy. It gave him a younger aura.

"How did you two meet?" The girl pulled herself onto her brother's bedside. Her skirt was a deep burgundy that she had paired with a white blouse and it luckily helped her manoeuvre around with ease.

"You don't know the story?" The girl shook her head. "And you really want to know?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to," she pointed out which made Alastair pout with a thoughtful look and nod.

He sat down on Marcus' other side, his dark eyes solely on the young girl in front of him. It was odd to be civil like this for the pair. But both of them seemed to be enjoying this new dynamic that didn't involve throwing glare and insults at each other every chance they got. 

If Ainsley and Alastair played their cards right, they could become friends. And they both knew that it would be a good thing not only for them but also for the unconscious boy that lay between them. Literally.

He opened his mouth but was cut of when the footfall of feet walked in their direction. The two half-Brits turned their heads. There stood Charles Fairchild.

"Oh hell no." The girl quickly got to her feet.

The redhead rested his eyes on her. "Ainsley. I didn't expect to see you here."

"Yeah, well what can I say? Not all older brother drive their younger siblings to want to avoid them at all cost. That's just you."

Those eyes now narrowed at her but Ainsley just glared back, even harder. Probably aware that it was a losing battle to enter that conversation with the girl, Charles merely cleared his throat. "I'm afraid you have to go." He didn't sound regretful at all. In fact he sounded pleased and smug. "We have to begin moving your brother."

"You're not touching my brother." The girl denied. "I don't even want you within ten feet of him. I don't care who does it. As long as it's not you."

"Fine," Charles seethed. He turned to Alastair who had been watching the exchange like a tennis match with wide eyes. "Will you be alright dealing with Ashwood?" When the Carstairs boy nodded, Charles nod back and turned his cold gaze to the young girl in front of him. "There. Now, you have to leave."

Rolling her black eyes, Ainsley moved to her brother. She pushed his black locks out of his forehead and left a soft kiss there. "Sarangeo, Oppa." She mumbled. When she turned back she offered Alastair a soft smile. "Take care of him. Please?" The boy nodded with a soft smile of his own. She then turned back to Charles with cold eyes. "Don't let the door hit on the way out."

She knocked her shoulder against Charles' as she passed him and left the infirmary, her face cold and closed of, the the way this very room was going to become.

.

AINSLEY WANDERED AROUND FOR SOME time. It calmed her down a little.

She knew she could go and see Lucie and Cordelia but didn't want to disturb them during their training. She knew the young girl would never pass up the opportunity to come and see her best friend and for them to spend some well needed alone time.

The place was dreadfully quiet now that the Enclave had left with the unconscious. Finally, Ainsley sighed. She set sail for the dining room, her throat aching for tea. 

Much to her surprise however, she saw the familiar frames of her two favourite parabatai sitting down at the table when she entered. They both turned to face her, slightly surprised. But the half-Korean girl couldn't find herself caring. She let her shoulders slump in relief as she ran up to James.

The boy gathered her up in his awaiting arms, holding her tightly. "You're okay," she breathed. The brunette looked up at him, a strand falling from its half-up half-down style to rest next to her face beautifully. She hit his shoulder a couple times. "I was worried when I found Matthew carrying your drunken self towards your room. You're supposed to be the responsible one out of you two!"

"Sorry, Annie," James cupped his foster sister's cheek. "You know the last thing I want to do with everything going on is worry you."

"I know," she sighed, leaning into his touch. "Okay, come on eat something."

They both sat down next to each other, Matthew in front of them. He handed the girl a cup with tea and just a spoon of honey in it; just the way she liked it.

James took some bread with mushrooms while Matthew had a piece of toast. The Herondale noticed that Ainsley simply sipped at her tea. "Aren't you eating anything?"

"I ate earlier," She assured. "With Tom."

"When?"

"Around 8:30, maybe. What's with all the questions?"

James turned to his food with a shrug. "Can't I just ask my lovely sister how her morning's been so far?"

The half-Korean raised an eyebrow but Matthew cut in. "Three hours?" He scoffed while shaking his head. "I cannot believe you only slept three hours."

"How do you know how long she slept?" James furrowed his eyebrows. "She never said when she fell asleep."

Green met black from across the table.

They knew James wouldn't make a big deal out of it if they said that Matthew had stayed with Ainsley until she finally fell asleep. But then he might ask why and that was just a bridge they didn't want to cross, especially the Fairchild boy. 

"I told him, earlier." Ainsley quickly lied. "We crossed each other in the hall. Math was going to check on you when I was just walking around the Institute to clear my head. He mentioned that I looked tired and I informed him that I slept at 5."

James seemed to believe it. He shrugged and went back to his breakfast, not noticing the look Matthew send her or the message he mouthed.

Ainsley smiled and nodded in reassurance. She would never betray him like that. His emotions were his and his alone. She had no right to go and talk to James about them even if the boy was his parabatai. If Matthew wanted James to know, he would have told James.

They all sat in silence for a moment, the only sounds being the munching of the boys and the ticks of the clocks. It was quiet. Quiet in a way it hadn't been for days. 

"Something's happened," James' voice was sudden. He had a frown on his face. The two other teenagers exchanged a look as the Herondale get to his feet and rush to the window. "Matthew, has anyone—"

"No," Matthew understood the question before he even finished and was quick to reply. "No, Jamie, no one else has died."

"The Enclave decided to move the wounded to the Silent City." Ainsley explained, having been the only one to have actually seen the infirmary before it emptied out. "They were too ill to be Portaled there, so Uncle Will and Aunt Tess are helping with the task, as are Uncle Gabriel and Aunt Cecy."

"Even Charles has loaned our carriage."

"Can we please not talk about him?" The young girl requested, her mouth twisting into a scowl. 

"And Grace?"

Matthew and Ainsley exchanged yet another look. They seemed to be deliberating on whether or not they should tell him, especially considering they knew about her devious nature now that she had shown her true colours to the blonde boy and the brunette girl -though unaware about the former. 

"The Pouncebys have taken her in," the Consul's son responded finally. "They are in Highgate, near the entrance to the Silent City. She will be able to visit her mother." 

There was something in his voice that told Ainsley that he wanted to reassure James. Tell him that the woman he loved -no matter how much of a bitch she was- was safe. But he shouldn't have to talk well about the girl who abused of him in the way she had. The previous night, Grace Blackthorn had been a predator who found a prey in Matthew Fairchild. And the boy was already broken enough. The last thing he need was more trauma.

So the Ashwood girl pushed her hate for the girl aside and spoke up. "She will be alright, James."

James nodded, almost absent-mindedly. "Yes, I trust she will. And Lucie? Does she know what's going on?"

For the umpteenth time that day, Matthew and Ainsley glanced at each other. There was a large amount of surprise in their eyes. "Yeah, she does. Aunt Tess told us at the same time." Ainsley's voice was confused.

"I'm sorry, Jamie but did you hear what I said of Grace?" Matthew seemed to be having a much harder time hiding his bewilderment.

The door clicked open before James could even consider giving them a response. In came Lucie dressed in training clothes, a bundle of letters in her hand. She seemed to be skimming through them but when her blue eyes fell on her older brother, they were practically tossed them into the salver that sat atop a desk by the door. 

Her feet quickly pattered over to James, "Jamie! Oh, thank goodness. Mother told me about Charles and Grace, and I crossed Annie yesterday and we talked about it as well. She had quite a few words to describe the situation," the younger girl smirked at her foster sister who hid her smile behind her cup, "but I have kept the news entirely to myself. Are you all right? Is your soul harrowed?"

"Cruel Prince James is quite all right, thank you," the black-haired boy assured with a smile to his sister. Ainsley smiled at that sight.

The blue-eyed girl didn't seem entirely convinced but settled for that answer as she turned to the other brunette in the room. "By the way, why were you crying yesterday?"

The Herondale siblings' eyes fell to her, Matthew pausing his hunt through the mail. He didn't move his green eyes to look at her but she notice his frame go motionless from the corner of her eye, waiting for her reply. "Marcus," the girl lied. "Worry and exhaustion were getting to me. Don't worry about it, Luce." Ainsley offered a convincing smile as she continued, "How's training going?"

"Training?" James raised his eyebrows at his sisters.

"I'm sparring up in the training room with Cordelia," Lucie explained. "Alastair went with Charles to help move some of the sick, and she stayed back with me. We thought perhaps we ought to be a bit more prepared, you know, in case you have another secret assignation that ends in a demon attack."

"I don't think that's likely."

"I agree with Jamie." A laugh bubbled out of the half-Korean girl's mouth before she even finished speaking. "I can't even say that with a straight face. You are adorable for thinking that way, little brother."

The boy playfully scowled. "You're only two months older."

Ainsley merely shrugged with a smirk while taking another sip of her tea. 

"James," Lucie spoke up, her voice gentle yet compelling. "You do not need to pretend to be brave, as Lord Wingrave was when his hand was rejected in marriage."

"Who on earth's that?"

"James!" Ainsley gasped. "How can you not know that Lord Windgrave is only the Beautiful Cordelia's most dashing suitor?"

"I swear I read that bit out loud last Christmas." Lucie nodded, her feet taking her to her foster sister's side and wrapping her arms around her shoulders and resting her chin on her head. "Papa was very impressed and Ainsley got curious and read the whole thing."

Both girls nothing short of jumped however when Matthew turned back towards the group from where he had been going through their mail. "Ah, Lucie," the blonde exclaimed in admiration, his hands behind his back, "You have been training, I see, like a great warrior of England. Like Boadicea, who defeated the Romans. Sit down! Let me make you a honey sandwich."

The two brunettes shared a look, their eyes wide as they did so. 

"You're insane, Matthew. You are aware of that, aren't you?"

He didn't get to respond to the comment since Lucie had flopped down to sit next to her foster sister and admit, "But I do adore honey sandwiches." She served herself some tea and refilled Ainsley's cup. She began speaking, a casual conversation which she knew would get many objections from her foster sister slipping past her lips. "I suppose Charles and Grace haven't announced their engagement formally yet, but that would be awfully rude of them with Ariadne so ill."

"Just the two of them doing this while the poor girl is at Death's door is absolutely despicable!" Ainsley could see the boys whispering away at the sideboard where Matthew was preparing Lucie's sandwich. She didn't know what it was about but she trusted her boys. 

So she kept her attention on Lucie. "I am surprised the Inquisitor hasn't tried to get Charles arrested." The younger girl voiced.

"Oh, I'd love that." Ainsley sighed dreamily. Her hate for Charles definitely ran deep.

Lucie probably would have scolded or encouraged her but instead they were met with James Herondale announcing, "It seems I have forgotten to put on socks," 

While his sister stared at her brother as though he was insane, Ainsley didn't even try to hide how disappointed she was, by shaking her head and looking despaired. James sent her a sheepish smile as he moved towards the door. "I shall return in a moment."

And with that he was out the door. 

Matthew also looked disappointed by his indiscretion as he approached the girls, honey sandwiches in one hand and honey pot in the other. He took his seat in front of the girls, holding out the plate to the youngest and the pot to the older girl.

Lucie wasted no time in digging into her honey slathered pieces of bread, a smirk on her lips as she watched the two older teenagers interact. The blush and smile Ainsley sent Matthew as he gave her honey to put in her tea, just the way he knows she liked to. 

But her keen blue eyes observed something more. They not only saw the usual amount of love and affection the two always shared but something more. They was this sense of camaraderie and secrecy in their eyes. 

But she decided that she would let things got their course without her intervening. "Hey, Annie." The two older teenagers looked at her as if they'd forgotten she was there. "Did you get to see Marcus before they moved him?"

"I did actually," the half-Korean girl said. "Though Charles threw me out. But I crossed Alastair and we had a nice conversation. Well, the beginning of one."

"Since when do you call Alastair Carstairs by his given name?" Matthew grimaced.

"Since I've gotten to know some things about him," Ainsley said carefully. It wasn't really her place to tell Matthew about why Alastair Carstairs was the way he was. And knowing Matthew, he probably wouldn't understand. He was a wonderful person but that didn't change the fact that he was privileged in ways Alastair wasn't.

The blonde looked at her as if she'd grown a second head. "He's horrible."

"He's actually not that bad," Ainsley defended, her black eyes narrowed.

Matthew glared back. "You're seriously defending him?"

"I seriously am. Is that alright with you?"

"Well considering that you wouldn't listen no matter what I said, I guess it is."

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

They glared at each other. The door opened and Bridget cleared her throat, probably feeling the tension in the room. The two teenagers turned to her, "What?" The both snapped angrily.

"As much as I hate to interrupt," the woman made a confused gesture towards them, "whatever this is. Christopher came running in and he's stomping all over the place to go up to the training room."

And she left. 

Lucie wasted no time in leaving them as well. She was probably regretting asking Ainsley about her visit to Marcus and wanted to get out of the room that was filled with suffocating tension. 

Ainsley quickly got to her feet and went to follow. Only for a hand to reach out and grip her wrist. She could feel Matthew's fingers burning into her skin, the heat he radiated pushing against her back. She froze right there.

But she didn't turned around though. Her lower lip was clamped between her teeth.

Ainsley could feel Matthew's gentle fingertips moving up her arm. They reached her shoulder, tracing down her back until his hand rested on her waist. The blonde pulled her back into his chest, making the girl let out a shaky sigh.

Something had changed between them. Since the previous night, since Ainsley had held Matthew as he sobbed without asking for any answers. The air was filled with something. Something that neither could deny but something neither would act on. 

"I can't do this," Matthew whispered, his other arm lacing around her waist as well. His head was bent down to her ear, his lips grazing its shell as he spoke, "I can't do this, this investigating, this whatever it is we're all doing, if you're angry at me. I hate fighting with you."

"I hate fighting with you too." The brunette whispered back. She leaned her head back against his shoulder.

They stood like that. Matthew ducking his head down so that he could place a gentle kiss on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I trust your judgment, I do. But it's just... I don't him to hurt you. Not after-"

When he broke of, the girl gently lifted his hands, turning and placing them on the small of her back. She let her arms loop over his shoulders, her black eyes staring right up into his green ones. "What did he do to make you hate him so much Matthew?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Why not?"

The boy smiled at her. It was a sad smile but a genuine one. "Do you trust me?"

"With my life and more."

"Then know that I'll tell in due time."

They stood in silence but the room was no longer choking with tension. It was a comfortable silence. "I'm sorry too."

"You didn't do anything wrong."

The half-Korean shrugged. She shifted her black orbs down to the crooked tie around Matthew neck. Her hands trailed down his chest from his broad shoulders, coming down to fix it. When she was done, those green eyes were still looking at her with that look she never could identify. They're faces we close. So close that their breath was mingled together.

"We should..."

The blonde nodded, pulling away slightly. He let his arms drop but one of his hands grabbed Ainsley's. "Let's go."

They moved towards the door and pulled it open, only for Lucie to tumble in with a yelp. The two older teenagers stared down at her with raised eyebrows. The girl only smiled sheepishly and got to her feet. 

"Lucie," Ainsley raised her eyebrows, "were you eavesdropping?"

"No."

"You shouldn't lie, young lady."

"First of all, I'm only a year younger then you," the Herondale girl pointed out as they began moving towards where the training room sat. "And second of all, you do it all the time."

"Do as I say, not as I do." The older brunette advised. "Believe me, you'll be less messed up in the head."

"If being 'messed in the head' means someone will hold my hand like that," Lucie smirked at Ainsley and Matthew's intertwined fingers, "I think I don't care."

The half-Korean felt her cheeks burn as she quickly let go of the blonde's hand and sped up. "Hey, maybe we should go figure out what Kit came here for."

And she took off running.

She could hear them right behind her as they quickly went up the stairs towards the training room next to the attic. Just as they pushed the door open, the confusion on their faces turned to surprise as the sight of a seraph blade being pointed at them. Matthew grabbed Ainsley -who let out a short scream- by her slim shoulders right before she could slam into it and well, die from all the speed she had picked up.

"Thank Raziel," Christopher sighed in relief lowering it. "I thought it was a demon attacking."

The blonde narrowed his green eyes, moving the girl he was holding behind him as he ordered, "Put that away. I don't fancy being stabbed; I am far too young and beautiful to die. So is Leo here, who almost took the blade to her chest."

"I see you have been waylaid on your way to find socks, James," Lucie remarked with raised eyebrows. 

"Bridget came and told us Kit was here." Ainsley informed.

She hit Lucie on the upside of her head when the younger girl mumbled, "Thankfully."

Matthew snorted slightly while the girl glared at the pair. She then turned back to their friends who were looking at them questioningly. The girl waved it off and just asked. "What's going on? Has anything happened?"

"And where is Thomas?" The older brunette didn't like that her parabatai wasn't anywhere in sight.

"He's waiting at the Devil Tavern," Christopher held his hand up at the Ashwood girl when he saw her open her mouth to probably chide him. "I know, Annie. I didn't want to leave him either but we've found out quite a lot of things and didn't have time to get an Irregular to get you a message."

"Well, come on then. What are we waiting for?"

.

"HI POLLY! BYE POLLY!" AINSLEY called over to the barmaid as she rushed into the Devil Tavern and up the stairs to the room her and the boys used. 

The others were following behind her but that didn't slow her down on bit. The girl quickly swung the door open to find Thomas sat on their sofa reading in noseless Apollo's company. 

She suspected that he hadn't been there the whole time though with the daggers sticking out in the dartboard and not neatly in the container her and Matthew had stored them in after their last match and the state of Christopher's lab. The workspace was covered in things such as scales and extra tests tube Ainsley didn't have the faintest clue as to where he got. Not the clean and organised space it had been when she was last here.

She let her lungs breath in the scent of old books that lined the walls and the heat of home envelope her as she launched herself into Thomas' waiting arms.

"I need to talk to you later," she breathed into his ear, unable to stop herself.

Thomas held her tightly. "What have you done now?"

They pulled away, though Ainsley's hands still sat on the boy's strong biceps as she furrowed her eyebrows. "Why do you automatically assume I've done something?"

"Because you've always done something." The Lightwood raised his eyebrows almost begging her to contradict him. He knew she couldn't. 

The girl pouted with a small shove to his shoulder. "You're mean."

"I love you too."

"Tom," James approached the pair. He placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. 

Ainsley let herself fall onto the sofa next to where Thomas previously sat and where she knew he would sit again. He proved her right by doing just that while James sat on his other side. His gold eyes looked at the others who seemed to be awkwardly shuffling on their feet, not too sure how to approach the boy. He gestured for them to come.

And they did.

There was something about James that just made you listen to him. He was a natural born leader and he could tell that they needed each other now. 

As they all drew in, sitting around on chairs or armchairs, Ainsley saw Thomas place the book he had been reading down onto the table. A book of Sulfi poetry. 

She picked it up and slightly smiled at the cover. "Your ease for languages always astonishes me." The half-Korean admired.

The boy sent her a tired but fond look and placed a soft kiss on her temple before turning to the other girls in the room, his voice lined with grief, "Cordelia, Lucie. I'm glad to see you."

"Welcome to our sanctum, ladies," Matthew announced as he sat down. He began unscrewing his flask as he did so. "Christopher salvaged quite a bit of this furniture for us. Like King Arthur and his knights, we prefer to sit at a round table that we all might be equal."

"Also, it was the only table my mother was willing to spare." The boy in question sheepishly smiled as he grabbed one of the many books the five friends owned and handed it to James.

"I like it," Ainsley assured him with a smile. The lavender eyed boy smiled back at her. Her black eyes then flickered to the blonde boy.

Ainsley felt like an idiot for believing that maybe Matthew would stop -or at least slow down- on the drinking after the previous evening. She was obviously proved wrong by how desperately the Fairchild boy seemed to be chugging on the alcohol. 

"I couldn't go to Idris," Thomas' sudden statement made the brunette turn to him, blinking as her chocolate waves flew a little. Once the initial surprise simmered down, she took his hand in her own. Nobody cared that he had stayed, it was his choice after all. But Thomas still felt the need to justify himself so they let him. "I wish to see Eugenia, but I need to stay here. I need to help Kit find the cure for this demon disease or poison or whatever this is. What happened to my sister cannot happen to someone else."

"Sometimes grief and worry must take the form of action," said Cordelia. "Sometimes it is unbearable to sit and wait."

"Exactly that," Thomas sounded grateful to hear someone other then Ainsley say it. She was living in grief too. Maybe not exactly the same one since Marcus was still alive but maybe the fact that Death was looming over him like a sword attached to a single thread made it a little better. But he sighed and said, "So—Christopher told you all about the shards?"

"Yes and James realized the shards are from a Pyxis." The younger Lightwood filled in.

"A Pyxis?" Thomas sounded a bit bewildered. "But they were destroyed after the Clockwork War. They're unsafe—remember what happened at school."

"Oh, I remember." Ainsley shivered. "But unfortunately, or fortunately, I don't know, there are still some remaining."

"In Gast's flat," James began, "I found a drawing. It looked rather like a sketch of an ordinary box—he wasn't a very good artist—"

"Ah, the drawing with the wobbly runes around it?" Matthew interjected.

"They weren't runes. They were alchemical symbols—the kind you'd carve onto a Pyxis box." The Herondale boy elaborated.

"Oh! The markings on the shards." Lucie realised, "They were alchemical symbols too. Of course."

"That wasn't all," James continued, almost eagerly. "On the paper Gast had scrawled a word in Old Persian. Cordelia was able to translate it."

All eyes rested on the half-Persian girl expectantly. 

"It was a demon's name," Cordelia revealed. "Merthykhuwar. In modern Persian it would be Mardykhor. But Shadowhunters—Shadowhunters call it a Mandikhor. They are said to be viciously poisonous."

"You think Gast summoned up a Mandikhor demon?" Matthew questioned with raised eyebrows. "But aren't they meant to be extinct? And what've they got to do with Pyxis boxes?"

James moved to open the book Christopher had handed him. He patted his pockets but cursed. "Damn."

"Here," Ainsley reached into her pocket, figuring out that James had forgotten his reading glasses. "You can use mine."

Ainsley and James both suffered the curse of needing reading glasses. It began with James, he'd needed the spectacles even before they went to the Academy. It came later for Ainsley though. She only began needing them around a year prior to this. 

It was mostly that they ruined their eyesight by staying up late and reading or drawing without much light.

Luckily they had the same perception and could therefore exchange glasses if need be. Coincidentally enough, each had glasses that were the same colour as their eyes; James' frames covered in gold leaf while Ainsley's were pure black. 

The oldest girl held them out to her foster brother after taking them out of their box -which had insured that their safety the whole time. James sent her a smile of thanks before slipping them on. 

He flicked through a couple pages before his throat cleared and he began his loud and eloquent reading, "'The Mandikhor is both here and there, both one and many. See, one of the nastiest things about the Mandikhor is that it can split itself into many pieces, each of which is both its own separate demon and a part of the original creature. That's why they're best captured in Pyxis boxes. The Mandikhor is difficult to kill—partly because it can produce an endless stream of smaller demons; you'd find yourself not even being able to get near it. But with a Pyxis, if you use the box to capture the Mandikhor, the smaller demons will disappear.'" 

His gaze moved up from the pages of the book to his friends. "I started to guess it was a Pyxis when Christopher told me about the shards. Cordelia's translation confirmed it. I knew Gast must have summoned up one of the few demons he would need a Pyxis to capture. In this case, a Mandikhor."

Christopher -who had been peering at the book over his cousin's shoulder- commented, "It doesn't look anything like those creatures that attacked us at the park." 

"There's a picture?" Ainsley questioned. When the boys nodded she made a grabby hands movement. "Can I see?"

James handed her the book, the girl resting on her knees as she peered into it. She grimaced slightly at the drawing. 

It may not have been the demons they had fought but it was certainly ugly. It had the body of a lion and the tail of a scorpion and added to that, three rows of razor sharp teeth that seemed to be dripping with poison.

"I am fairly sure those were the Khora," Cordelia suggested. "The smaller demons that split from the Mandikhor. They do not resemble it. And that must be why Gast referred to the demon in the singular—he did raise one demon. It split into smaller demons later."

"So someone hired Gast to raise a Mandikhor and trap it in a Pyxis," Lucie reasoned. 

Ainsley nodded before continuing, "But when he returned to his flat with the demon caged in the box, they ambushed and killed him—and set the creature free."

"Gast is not the mind behind this," James declared. "He was a tool, useful only for building a Pyxis and summoning the demon. Someone else is directing its movements and attacks."

"Not just summoning the demon. Remember what Ragnor said—Gast summoned it in such a way, using dimensional magic, that it is protected from sunlight." Lucie reminded.

Ainsley wrapped her arms around herself as a shiver ran up her spine. Why? Why would someone summon an agent capable of such destruction? Who on Earth would want to spread so much pain and sorrow and heartache and death? And for what?

Thomas probably felt the tremors that raked her body and wrapped and arm around his parabatai's shoulders. "If the demon were trapped and killed," he spoke slowly and carefully, "what of those who are poisoned? Would they get better?"

"The sick will not be healed." James sadly shook his head. His eyes fell to Ainsley who buried her face in her hands. He was already slowly unraveling with Marcus being poisoned, he couldn't imagine what it was like for Ainsley. "We still need an antidote for that. But the demons will be gone, and that is quite a start. The Enclave has been searching for these demons with no success—how would they have guessed they were seeking the offspring of an extinct creature? But now that we know it is a Mandikhor..."

Cordelia drew in a breath which made all eyes shift to her. "Daisy," Ainsley's eyes were filled with hope she knew she shouldn't have but she couldn't help it. "Do you know something?"

The half-Persian girl seemed to hesitate."In the stories of Merthykhuwar demons, they make their homes in between spaces. For instance, the border between two countries, or the middle of a bridge. Somewhere that is neither here nor there."

James handed his foster back her glasses with a distracted look. "When I went into the shadow realm, from the ballroom," he spoke, his voice filled with something that made one think he was connecting things, "I saw—among others things—Tower Bridge. A strange red light poured from it. I think—"

"We know Gast raised the demon from a bridge," Matthew straightened. His eyes seemed to find Ainsley's as the always did.

"A place between," the girl mumbled before turning to the group, "as Cordelia said. Perhaps it still resides there."

"So if we were to go to Tower Bridge, with a Pyxis, it's possible that we could recapture the Mandikhor?" Lucie spoke curiously. "And then the Khora would disappear—just as if it had died?"

"Yes, but we'd have to get a Pyxis first. That would be difficult." Christopher reminded, earning a slight face from everyone.

"But perhaps not impossible," Ainsley was trying to focus on James' words, she really was. But it was proving rather hard since Matthew's hands seemed to have a mind of their own. They restlessly tapped at his arm rest or dragged through his blonde hair or played with the necktie the girl had adjusted earlier. "If most were destroyed after the Clockwork War..."

"A few remain," the half-Korean averted her eyes as she bit her lower lip and started playing with Thomas' long fingers between her own.

"Unfortunately, they're in Idris."

"I was afraid you were going to say that," the blonde groaned at his parabatai as he took a long sip from his flask again. "I think it will be noticed by the Clave if we disappear from London and turn up in Idris, rooting around the Gard like treasure hunters."

James sent the other boy a look, one filled his exasperation but continued his words. "The only Pyxides in the Clave's possession are in Idris. There are a few others. We just need to find one. There's a certain shop in Limehouse—"

"Wait," Cordelia interrupted, her face thoughtful. "A box covered in alchemical symbols—the ourobouros is an alchemical symbol, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Hey, did you know that some scientist had a dream about it and it helped him figure out the sulfur molecules should be linked together as a circle and not as a chain?" Ainsley felt all eyes resting on her in a baffled manner and huffed with a scowl. "What? I know things!"

Christopher alone grinned pridefully.

Cordelia broke out of it first and smiled warmly at the girl before continuing, "Annie, Matthew, didn't we see a box with a serpent design on it? In the Hell Ruelle?"

Matthew leaped to his feet and Ainsley straightened as they shared another glance. "Yes, in the chamber of Hypatia Vex." The boy nodded.

"That wooden box with an ourobouros symbol burned into the sides. It always freaked me out. I can't believe we might actually use it to help people." The girl scrunched up her face.

Matthew smiled at her. "It makes sense; Hypatia is an inveterate collector."

"Excellent. We'll just tell her we need it, then."

"Oh Kit," The Ashewood girl couldn't help the endearment she felt at the boy's naivety as she smiled a little. "Come here, baby boy." 

She outstretched her arms and beckoned him over. The boy sat down and let his older friend pull him so that the back of his head rested on her chest and her arms were wrapped around his torso.

"Go ahead," James said sarcastically before adding, "if you fancy being turned into a china cabinet."

"Don't listen to him, Kit," the girl swooped down to place a kiss in the boy's hair. "I would never let you get turned into a china cabinet."

"Oh, come on, Annie," the Herondale boy complained. "you know, Hypatia does not like Shadowhunters." 

"She likes me," the older brunette in the room strongly announced. "And I think this is an excellent idea on Cordelia's part. Thank you, Daisy. We'll figure something out." 

"We could rob the Hell Ruelle," Thomas suggested with a slight shrug as he ruffled Christopher's hair.

"And wear masks. Like highwaymen." Lucie sounded a little too eager at the prospect of crime.

"Only a fool would rob Hypatia Vex," Matthew rolled his green eyes before warningly saying. "And let it not be said that Matthew Fairchild is a fool. At least, let it not be said in my hearing. I would find it very hurtful."

"Hey, a fool isn't necessarily a bad thing to be." Ainsley announced. "In the tarot cards, the card of the fool actually means positive things like beginnings and innocence."

"Why do you know the meaning of tarot cards?" Cordelia questioned curiously.

"Marcus went through a phase. Wanted to learn everything about tarot and taught me a couple things while he was at it."

"That's actually really nice," the younger brunette girl smiled. "Like sibling bonding." 

Ainsley shrugged. "I guess."

"I think Christopher is right," the half-Persian girl's voice cut in making everyone turn to her. "We should ask Hypatia."

Christopher furrowed his eyebrows. He glanced up at the half-Korean girl who shrugged at his confused face. The look just made her squeeze him closer like a teddy bear and bury her face in his brown hair as he turned to Cordelia. "We should?"

"Well, not us. It is true she does not like most Shadowhunters. But there is certainly at least one she likes very much. And it's not Ainsley." She smirked.

The Ashwood girl immediately caught on and smirked back. "Cordelia Carstairs, you bloody genius."

.

ANNA LIGHTWOOD WAS PARTICULAR ABOUT many things. One of those thing was tea.

So when a group of seven teenagers show up at her door for tea unannounced, she isn't exactly pleased. But she still let them in and invade her chairs and sofa. Thomas sat on a the ground, right against Ainsley's legs as his head rested on her knees since he was a little too tall. 

"Daisy, Annie, my darlings," the woman smiled as she placed down the plate in her hands. It contained a Victoria sponge cake and was sat next to a plate of barmbrack fruitcake. "I'm delighted to see you. Though it is entirely bad form to appear unannounced at teatime. There simply won't be enough cake for everybody. The girls will have cake and the boys nothing. There is no other fair way to do it."

"Yes!" Ainsley beamed and immediately served herself some Victoria sponge, slathered with cream and covered in strawberries. She knew it wasn't the best moment to indulge in pastries but her stomach was crying outrage from how little she had been eating since the events of Regent's Park.

"That is unjust desserts," James declared with narrowed eyes.

Anna didn't change her mind though, settling for drawling out, "The world is unjust, my love," as she settled down on the arm of Christopher's chair. Her blue eyes fell to Thomas who was looking up at Ainsley, who still stroked his hair with one hand. "Of course I would offer you cake, dear cousin," Anna then remarked, "if I thought it would ease your heart."

Thomas forced a tired smile but his eyes were filled with fondness. "I think in this case, assistance would be better than cake."

"By all means. Tell me what's going on."

So James did. He explained as much as he could breaking any of the vows they made, be it to the demons on the bridge or Ragnor Fell. He explained about the Pyxis and that they needed it. "And so, we thought, perhaps tonight at the Hell Ruelle—"

"Ah yes, about that." Anna cleared her throat with a raised eyebrow. "Let me be perfectly clear what you are asking: You want me to seduce a warlock in order to procure you a tragically outmoded box in which to, no doubt, house a dangerous demon?" When she got a mostly positive response, Anna then questioned, "How did you decide on this plan? And why in Raziel's name haven't you told anyone else about it?"

The others all shared a look. They hadn't thought of an answer for that. But brave as ever, Matthew shrugged a little and tempted, "Because we are guessing?"

The Lightwood girl didn't exactly look convinced making Ainsley grimace a little and tilt her head back to face the blonde. "Next time, try to sound more sure of yourself." She whispered. The boy pouted, his hand discreetly edging towards her slice of cake but the brunette noticed. She slapped his hand away with a playful glare, "Hands off," and she turned back to face Anna.

Lucie managed a small smile to them before sighing. "Because we cannot," she sighed, her tone bordering on strict and all-business. "We have sworn a vow to protect the source who gave us the information our guesses are based on. We cannot even tell you, dear Anna. You must simply trust us that this is for a good reason."

Anna eyed them suspiciously. "All right. You are off your heads, every one of you." She threw her hands up in the air.

"Don't you think you could do it?" James challenged with a smirk.

"Humph. I could do it." The dark-haired woman huffed. "But it goes entirely against my code."

"Your code?" Ainsley raised an unimpressed eyebrow, her voice filled with disbelief. "You live by a code?"

"I most certainly do," Anna strongly stated. "It is against my strict policy to seduce anybody twice."

"I didn't know you'd seduced Hypatia once," Matthew commented.

"Really?" The half-Korean turned to face him from where he was stood behind her, his forearms resting on the sofa as they did when he stood behind his father's chair. "I knew."

"How?"

"It's kind of obvious. They act as two people with something unresolved between them."

"I don't know two people like that at all," the black-haired girl commented sarcastically. She didn't elaborate -and did she really need to?- but made an impatient hand gesture. "Anyways, it was ages ago. How do you think I got invited to the Hell Ruelle in the first place? Honestly, Matthew."

"Yeah, honestly, Matthew." Ainsley shook her head disapprovingly making the blonde's jaw drop in betrayal.

"Et tu, Leo?"

"Ye," the girl smirked before popping a piece of cake into her mouth and turning away.

The two younger girls in the room whooped loudly while the boys and Anna all looked at Matthew with amused smiles. Ainsley blushed a little, ducking her head down and feeling grateful that they were half down that day. What she couldn't see though was that Matthew was just as red faced behind her.

Everyone chuckled before Lucie, serious and focused as always brought them back to he matter at hand. "How did you leave things with Hypatia?" She questioned her cousin. "Was her heart broken? In that case, she might want... revenge."

Anna narrowed her blue eyes before rolling them when she saw that they were adamant. "Wait here a moment, my dear novelist. In fact, all of you wait here, except Cordelia. You come with me, Daisy."

She got up and gestured for the half-Persian girl to follow. The redhead got to her feet and after a funny look at the two other girls, she followed Anna right into her bedroom. 

Ainsley couldn't help but smile a little before shaking her head. Her fingers broke of another bite size piece of her Victoria sponge cake when Thomas tilted his head back to look at her.

He was absolutely exhausted. The half-Korean gently stroked a thumb over his skin in a soothing motion which made the boy sigh and close his eyes as he leaned into his parabatai's touch. 

Ainsley hummed making him open his eyes again. Her dark eyes were full of question as she held up the piece of cake she had just broken of. Thomas managed a small smile and nodded.

He would be an idiot not to. This was probably the only time Ainsley Ashwood would voluntarily give him some of her food. 

She gently placed the cake in his mouth and Thomas smiled again, happily chewing away.

"Hey!" Matthew gasped. "How come Thomas gets cake but I don't?"

"Thomas is my parabatai." The blonde didn't seem to like that answer which made Ainsley roll her eyes. "If you want cake so much, ask Lucie."

"You know what, I just might. She, for one, actually loves me." And he dramatically turned away towards Lucie who was talking to Christopher.

The two other brunettes shook their heads with sighs. But they glanced at one another and cracked a small smile. 

"So, what did you need to talk to me about?"

Ainsley opened her mouth but then closed it as she stole a quick glance to Matthew who was now playfully bickering with Lucie and Christopher. "Later." She said, looking back down at her parabatai. "I'll tell you later. There are some people who I'd rather keep in the dark about."

Thomas furrowed his eyebrows but nodded. Luckily, Anna and Cordelia were also exiting the room. The Lightwood held up a black leather bound book. "This will hold the answers to all our questions." She announced.

Matthew turned his attention to it and smirked. "Is this your list of conquests?"

"Of course not," Anna denied. "It's a memorandum book..."

When the girl trailed of, Ainsley quirked an eyebrow up and felt her own lips tug to one side. "About your conquests?"

"Fine, it is," she groaned but raised her finger as a teacher might. "But that is an important but meaningful distinction."

Cordelia let herself fall back next to a very satisfied Lucie Herondale. James hadn't moved from his chair next to Thomas and Ainsley's side of the sofa and Matthew was now next to the younger brunette. Ainsley couldn't help but miss the warmth he gave of.

Anna's fingers moved through many pages with many names written in bold black ink. The half-Korean girl shouldn't have been that surprised but she was at the sheer numbers there were. 

"Hmm, let me see." She hummed, "Katherine, Alicia, Virginia—a very promising writer, you should look out for her work, James—Mariane, Virna, Eugenia—"

"Not my sister Eugenia?" Thomas demanded stunned.

"Oh, probably not," Anna shrugged of making the two parabatai share a startled look.

Anna continued. "Laura, Lily... ah, Hypatia. Well, it was a brief encounter, and I suppose you might say she seduced me...."

"Well, that hardly seems fair," James tried to influence her into doing. 

"Like someone solving a case before Sherlock Holmes." Ainsley added.

The Herondale boy smirked at his foster sister. "If I were you I would feel challenged, as if to a duel."

Matthew chortled with an amused look in his eyes. Anna however wasn't amused and sent the pair a glare. "I know what you're trying to do."

"Is it working?" James chanced teasingly.

"Possibly," Anna admitted begrudgingly as her eyes fell to the neat scrawls of her handwriting. Ainsley was curious of what other names might be in there. Maybe Ariadne Bridgestock's and that of other woman if the Enclave?

"I appreciate the scientific rigor with which you've approached this project, Anna," Christopher praised. "Though I don't think I could manage to collect that many names and also pursue science. Much too time-consuming."

"How many names would you want to collect, then?" Anna laughed as she fondly gazed at her brother.

Christopher's head titled to the side making Ainsley smile at him, endeared by his innocence.

"I would only want one," stated Thomas, his head tilting back to face Ainsley who smiled and played with his hair.

"Too late for me to only have one," Matthew announced with a sigh. "At least I can hope for several names in a carefully but enthusiastically selected list."

"Nobody's ever tried to seduce me at all," Lucie grumbled slightly. She rolled her pretty blue eyes at the look her brother was sending her. "There's no need to look at me like that, James. I wouldn't say yes, but I could immortalize the experience in my novel."

"It would be a very short novel, before we got hold of the blackguard and killed him," James threatened darkly.

Sun filtered into the room from the window and laughter bounced of the walls of the apartment while Lucie crossed her arms over her chest and grumbled again. "That is so unfair! Would you do it if it's Ainsley?"

"I don't need to do it if it's Ainsley. A guy could be in love with her and she wouldn't notice."

"Hey!" The half-Korean complained. "I would.... not." She groaned as more laughter left the group.

"What about you though, Annie? How many names would you want?"

The girl considered for a moment before inhaling deeply. "Ideally one. But I don't really think it matters how many names one has in their book. As long as they end up with the right person at the end." Small smiles graced all their faces at those words. But Ainsley ruined it with a quiet. "Not that it matters anyways."

Matthew, Christopher and James cried in protest while the girls all raised a confused eyebrow. Thomas alone didn't say anything. He finally called, "Hey! Leave her alone. We all have our insecurities and the last thing Annie needs is you lot yelling at her when she confided in us."

The girl leaned down and hugged the boy, her chin resting on his head while her arms wrapped around his broad shoulders. "I have the best parabatai in the world." She kissed his head before turning to face Matthew. "This is why he gets cake and you don't."

"You shared your cake?" Anna exclaimed. When the girl nodded, the young woman turned to her cousin. "She really loves you if she shared her cake with you, dear cousin."

"I know." He smiled, leaning back enough to kiss the girl's cheek. "I love her too."

The girl flushed a deep red before straightening up and waving her hands. "Okay, enough about me! What about you, Cordelia?"

"One," Cordelia shrugged. "That's everyone's dream, isn't it, really? Instead of many who give you little pieces of themselves—one who gives you everything."

The half-Korean smiled at that. It was a beautiful way of looking at love. 

She could feel eyes on the side of her face and turned to see Matthew looking at her with that indecipherable look he got. He didn't turn away when he saw that he'd been caught staring. No, he held her gaze, offering a soft and genuine smile that she returned.

"Sorry," he mouthed.

The girl just shook her head in a way of saying, it's alright. The forests of his eyes stayed fixed on the dark caves of hers. They only broke away when Anna's rich laughter filled the air. "Searching for the one is what leads to all the misery in this world. Searching for many is what leads to all the fun."

"Then this should be fun," the half-Persian girl stated. "Seducing Hypatia. After all, what are rules for if not to be broken?"

Ainsley let out a startled laugh while Matthew nodded. "You make an excellent point," he said as he tried to discreetly steal a piece of Lucie's cake. He was doing a terrible job since the Herondale girl quickly noticed and slapped his hand away.

"Oh, for the love of Raziel," Ainsley rolled her eyes. She held out her plate which still had half a slice of cake on it out to the boy. "Here, if you're so desperate for cake."

The boy grinned and bound over. He took the plate and leaned down, "This is why I adore you." The blonde said before placing a gentle peck on the girl's forehead and turning to the piece of Victoria sponge.

Ainsley turned beet red, clearing her throat as everyone else sent her matching smirks. "W-what were we talking about?" She stuttered.

"The Pyxis," Cordelia supplied.

"Right," she sighed before turning to her friend. "Anna, please. Getting this Pyxis might help quite a few people. It could have helped Barbara." She gently squeezed Thomas' shoulder. "It could still help Marcus and Ariadne."

That seemed to work as she agreed. "Oh, very well. Let's try it. Might be a lark. However...."

"No! No, no, no! Why is there a however? There shouldn't be a however."

"If you haven't got the proper clothes, I could lend you my new waistcoat." Christopher offered. "It's orange."

"Orange is not the color of seduction, Christopher." The older Lightwood shook her head in disappointment at her brother's opinion of what was fashionable. "Orange is the color of despair, and pumpkins. Regardless, I have all the clothes I need. However"—she sent Ainsley a pointed look—"the Hell Ruelle is not assembled every night. The next salon is tomorrow."

The Ashwood girl let out a sigh. She felt a hand fall to her shoulder and saw that James had moved so that he was behind her. He gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Then we will go tomorrow."

"We cannot possibly all go to the Hell Ruelle," Anna rolled her blue eyes. "Hypatia wouldn't like it if we all show up in a gaggle. A gaggle is not dignified."

"It makes sense for me to go," Matthew spoke up, finishing of the cake. "They know me there."

"I should go as well," James said. "It is possible my shadow power might be useful. I have utilized it before to—to acquire certain things."

Ainsley furrowed her eyebrows as she turned to face him. That didn't sound ominous at all. 

She quickly shrugged it off. "Well, I'm coming. They know and like me for some reason."

"And Cordelia as well, of course," Anna declared, leaving no room for any argument. "Ainsley is a beautiful girl and a beautiful girl is always a distraction. Imagine what a distraction two beautiful girls will make! And we will need to be very distracting indeed."

"Anna!" The half-Korean exclaimed covering her face with her hands since it was red again.

Cordelia also looked down. 

"Bother. I can already tell I'm going to be left out." Lucie pouted.

"Lucie, you are very much needed." The Lightwood girl turned to her cousin. "At the Institute. You see, there is a meeting of all the Enclave tomorrow night, and I had planned to attend. Apparently there is some significant news."

"I can attend," Thomas spoke up begrudgingly. "Though I am not keen on sitting in a room full of people looking at me bloody pityingly."

Everyone looked surprised, safe Ainsley who just leaned down to hug her parabatai again. Thomas rarely ever swore but his sister just died so he had every right and no one could reproach him a single thing.

"I was not thinking of attendance," Anna admitted. "They may moderate what they have to say if you are there. Better to spy on them."

"Oh, spying! Perfect." Lucie perked up with a huge smile. "They'll be meeting in the library; I know which room is over it. We can spy on them from overhead. Christopher shall be able to analyze what they say from a scientific perspective, and Thomas can recall it all with his excellent memory."

Thomas smiled at Lucie, his hands holding onto Ainsley's as they were still wrapped around him. He knew as well as she did that the Herondale girl could feel his need to do something to distract himself and she was giving him the opportunity to do just that.

"Espionage it is. At last, something to look forward to."

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A/N  
IMPORTANT! PLEASE READ!

12542\. That's how many words I have written for this chapter. I hope you guys don't mind such long updates 😅  
But I had fun with this one! I think you might have noticed that I added a lot of scenes of my own. And that thing about the ouroboros is true, my middle school science teacher told us that story. Anyways, I'd love to know what you all though.

Now, on to the important bit of this message.   
I am going to take a slight break from updating this story. I promise, I will keep writing but the updates will be paused until further notice for a number of reasons.   
1\. I have school.   
I have school and tests and homework. I usually write before bed but now days I am too exhausted to write a lot so it's going very slowly.  
2\. I'm having a hard time writing the current chapter I am working on.   
I am going slow and doing my best. I don't want to rush it to fit a schedule because if I do, then it won't be as good as I'd want it and that will be disappointing for you, my readers and me.  
3\. I need to read Chain of Iron before continuing.   
There are some plans I have for this book series and my OCs in it but I need to have read Chain of Iron before I can write some of the later scenes in 'Believer', namely the scene at Highgate.  
I hope you all understand and I do apologise but it's the way things are and this is the best solution I could find. I do repeat that I will be back with the next part of Ainsley Ashwood's adventures and soon. I thank you all and send a lot of love and happy Chain of Iron day 💕.

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